As I watched the snow pile up outside my hotel room window last week during the back to back blizzards attacking Washington DC, I couldn’t help but wish my kids were there with me. We’ve not had a big snow like that in their lifetime, and the few inches we usually get in Tennessee barely reach the top of the grass. A sled run quickly turns muddy, turning the beauty of the winter landscape into a dirty, sloppy mess.
Almost every day throughout the winter, my youngest daughter Taylor excitedly asks if it is going to snow. I remember that feeling well. I asked the same question of my parents each cold, frosty night from January thru March. I answer her much like my father answered me, with little faith in the magic of the clouds and the power of a thousand kids praying for a snow day. It was the only time I didn’t really believe my Dad was going to be right, and I’m sure Taylor doesn’t believe me either (although she feels that way on many more subjects than I ever did with my parents). I fell asleep with the promise of snow in my dreams, believing that when I awoke the next morning, there would be a blanket of white outside my window.
As far as kids are concerned, snow days are like a surprise late Christmas gift from God. Although they are usually bored and whiny by 11am, the promise of a little extra sleep and a day at home is overpowering. I never understood why parents didn’t get as excited over schools closing for snow as kids did…until I was a parent. That’s when I learned that it’s very rare to get a “snow day” from work (for some reason, if you get paid, they expect you to be there). Also, someone has to deal with the kids for the day.
When the home routine is broken, tension levels rise. Connie is used to having the day all to herself. She gets the kids off to school, me off to work; she sips some coffee, answers some email, watches a little of the Today show. Then she works…at her pace, without interruption.
Snow days ruin her plans. Not that she hates having the kids or me around, but we are kind of annoying. She doesn’t get a lot done on snow days because someone is always yelling. Either they are yelling at each other over some perceived injustice, or they are yelling for Mom to get something, fix something, look at something or answer something that they should already know the answer to.
Connie tries very hard to get them out of the house early and often, but that requires a considerable amount of work. Gathering coats, gloves, boots, sleds, etc., takes a lot of effort, and although the kids can’t wait to get out there and play, they don’t seem to have the skill set to prepare for it without extensive help.
I don’t know about most people, but we don’t think about snow gear until there is snow on the ground and we can’t get our car out of the drive. That means that the boots that fit last year are too tight now, and the waterproof gloves have mysteriously disappeared. All that is left in the “winter clothing drawer” are some mismatched cotton mittens and a toddler snow suit that was outgrown eight years ago.
Sleds are kept in our outside storage, usually covered up by coolers, camping supplies, empty bags of peat moss and a million microscopic cobwebs. Since no one else will venture into the back of our storage building, I somehow find myself crawling awkwardly over my lawnmower, arms outstretched while I get pummeled by falling rakes and shovels. When I finally stagger outside, sleds in tow, the kids know better than to say “what took you so long?”
Throughout the summer months we often complain about our back yard. Too steep for any game play (if you start running at the top, it’s hard to stop running until you hit the fence at the bottom of the hill), we usually go to one of our local parks to play. Those same features, however, make it a pretty great yard for sledding. There are a few trees to dodge if you go off course, but the central strip is just right to build up some decent speed. Although the fence can seem to be approaching pretty fast, we’ve learned exactly when and where to roll off the sled to avoid any ugly accidents.
For all the trouble it takes to get the mass of snow gear together, you’d think that they would stay out most of the day, but that would be far too easy. Usually after no more than an hour, they come back in, muddy and wet, dripping and tracking all over the floor, demanding hot chocolate and food. Soon they are in pajamas, covered up by soft blankets, watching the Disney Channel and wondering if they will have school the next day. It’s barely noon.
It’s great to be a kid.
It takes me back to the winter of 1977. We had snow, then some more snow, topped off by even more snow. I think I was out of school for the entire month of January. It was great...until we had to go to school every Saturday in May and for half of June to make up all the time we missed. You don’t think about those things at the time though. Kid’s minds don’t deal in consequences.
Unlike my current yard, our yard growing up was flat. The alley way behind us however, had a slight slope, and after a few trucks had tamped down the snow, it made for a pretty good run. Dad built a sled for us, welding the rails and cross bars, and topped it off with a piece of plywood. I don’t know how fast we went, but in my mind, it was a rocket.
A friend of Dad’s came with a tractor and scraped our driveway, creating a huge pile of snow in the corner of our yard. With a small shovel and hours of determination, we made a snow cave; big enough for several of us to get inside and contemplate how amazingly cool it was that we had our own snow cave. As I recall, that cave lasted until mid-June.
The timing of that school free month was perfect, at least for me, because I got to stay up late for the eight nights of the television miniseries Roots. It was a turning point for me, as my 13 year old eyes saw something different than reruns of The Brady Bunch and Gilligan’s Island. Obviously I was aware of slavery and had studied and been tested in very general terms in Social Studies class, but I did not understand it on a personal level. Roots changed that. I will never forget experiencing the saga of Kunta Kinte, Chicken George, Kizzy and Fiddler. American History changed for me that month.
Another highlight of winter when I was a kid was snow-cream. It was plentiful and cheap, so we ate it until our stomach hurt and our internal body temperature dropped by ten degrees. The next day, we’d do the same thing again. Today, we’re a little afraid of eating snow out of fear of what might be in the atmosphere, particularly where I live. A few bowls of Oak Ridge snow-cream and you might start to glow.
As good as my memories are from my own childhood snow days, and despite my griping over the mud and the gear and the cobweb covered sleds, I have to admit that I just might be enjoying these weather related closings a little bit more. Nothing in my memory is quite as great as the sight of my own children having a good time. Even at their most irritating and selfish (and let’s face it, kids are really good at both of those things), they are my kids. Seeing them happy is the best memory of all.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Pet Peeves 3.0
Here is my first list of Pet Peeves for 2010. I would like to say that there won’t be any more this year, but I’m not feeling very optimistic.
“HE WENT TO JARED.”
Yeah, I don’t care. This jewelry store commercial has so annoyed me that I wouldn’t get a ring there if there were no other ring stores and Jared was giving them away free.
PEPSI
More and more restaurants and hotels have changed over to carrying “Pepsi” rather than “Coke.” Apparently, Pepsi cuts a much better deal which promises bigger profits. This would be a sound business decision if people accepted the change in taste and didn’t say, “never mind I’d rather have water.” I’m sorry, but when I am asked what I want to drink and I say, “Coke,” the response of “will Pepsi be okay?” makes me angry. If they want to provide only fake cola, then my response from now on will be, “Sure, can I pay with monopoly money?”
FASHION EXPERTS
Who do these people think they are? More importantly, why in the world would anyone listen to them? After every awards show or celebrity event, this panel of arrogant, self-imposed masters of beauty and elegance deconstruct and belittle others with a cruelty and cold blooded viciousness usually reserved for a middle-school girls locker room. I will admit to sitting in my comfy recliner and having a good giggle fit over some of the ridiculous outfits stars wear, but I would never laugh in their face. That would not be right. Somewhere under all that plastic surgery and sequins, those celebrities have feelings too.
FAKE CELEBRITIES
I don’t’ mind people who have actually accomplished something being on the cover of People magazine or being discussed on the morning news, but I’d like to put some rules and limits on who gets their 15 minutes of fame and why. Being an idiot should not entitle someone to money or fame. The “Octomom” and her frightening lips continue to plague us, while a group of cretins from the New Jersey shore might make even Billy Graham begin to wonder if Darwin was on to something. I also don’t know where “Heidi and Spencer” came from, or what they supposedly did to get their names in the news, but I’d like to mark them all “return to sender” and get them off the cultural radar. They are an embarrassment to the human race.
HARD BUTTER
Why do restaurants seemingly store their butter packets in the freezer? There’s nothing worse than getting some nice hot bread or biscuits delivered to your table and then being offered cold little yellow bricks that tear and rend rather than spread and melt. Very frustrating.
SAMPLERS
No, I’m not talking about “appetizer samplers” (those are AWESOME). I’m talking about musicians who do not have the talent or ability to write their own music, but instead steal from others. Sadly, many young people, hearing these words or melodies for the first time, think that these “non-artists” are brilliant. They are not. With rare exception (like Kid Rock’s “Summertime”), these songs are neither a homage nor a tribute. They are cheap forgeries by people who can’t conjure an original thought on their own.
PRECIOUS: BASED ON THE NOVEL “PUSH” BY SAPPHIRE
If you have heard of this Academy Award nominated film, you should know that I’m not hating on the movie itself. It sounds like a great film about a very serious subject (child abuse), and I will probably try to see it. My issue is with the extended title. Either call it “Precious” or call it “Push.” You don’t need to declare your literary origin in the title. People who care will read about that in the credits. Besides, although we might recognize “by Jane Austin” or “by William Shakespeare,” most of us don’t have a clue who “Sapphire” is. Get over yourself. I rename you “Pretentious.”
GYM PEOPLE
I know what you’re thinking, and you’re mostly wrong. I think exercise is a wonderful and necessary thing. I genuinely wish that I enjoyed it more. My problem is with people who have a compulsion to let you know that they do it. You know the kind. They fit it into almost every conversation:
“sorry I’m late, I had to workout,”
“This yogurt is delicious…did I tell you I was at the gym this morning?”
“I wanted to attend my Uncle’s funeral, but it interfered with my spin class.”
I think there must be a course taught at the gym about “rubbing it in other people’s faces.” It’s not an attractive quality. At least not to fat people like me.
LEMONS
I enjoy a nice glass of iced tea. My preference is for sweet tea, but I can drink it with Spenda, Equal or even nothing at all. I like the taste of plain tea (not the flavored kind, thank you very much…not “peach tea” or “raspberry tea,” just plain old Lipton tea), and when I go out, that is my drink of choice. Here is my problem: most restaurants, for some reason, operate under the assumption that everyone wants “lemon” in their tea. If I wanted “lemon” flavor, I would order “lemonade.” Even more bothersome is when the server takes the time to ask if I want “lemon” in my tea, and then completely ignores my stated preference. Believe it or not, this happens nine times out of ten (and yes, I have completed an exhaustive and thorough study on this, with certified data to back it up). Yes, the only thing more frustrating than assuming that you automatically want lemon in your tea is to give you the option, repeat the choice of “no lemon,” and then spoil the lip of the glass with a sour wedge anyway.
Previous Pet Peeve Postings:
http://aimless-saunter.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-pet-peeves-part-one.html
http://aimless-saunter.blogspot.com/2009/08/another-pet-peeve.html
“HE WENT TO JARED.”
Yeah, I don’t care. This jewelry store commercial has so annoyed me that I wouldn’t get a ring there if there were no other ring stores and Jared was giving them away free.
PEPSI
More and more restaurants and hotels have changed over to carrying “Pepsi” rather than “Coke.” Apparently, Pepsi cuts a much better deal which promises bigger profits. This would be a sound business decision if people accepted the change in taste and didn’t say, “never mind I’d rather have water.” I’m sorry, but when I am asked what I want to drink and I say, “Coke,” the response of “will Pepsi be okay?” makes me angry. If they want to provide only fake cola, then my response from now on will be, “Sure, can I pay with monopoly money?”
FASHION EXPERTS
Who do these people think they are? More importantly, why in the world would anyone listen to them? After every awards show or celebrity event, this panel of arrogant, self-imposed masters of beauty and elegance deconstruct and belittle others with a cruelty and cold blooded viciousness usually reserved for a middle-school girls locker room. I will admit to sitting in my comfy recliner and having a good giggle fit over some of the ridiculous outfits stars wear, but I would never laugh in their face. That would not be right. Somewhere under all that plastic surgery and sequins, those celebrities have feelings too.
FAKE CELEBRITIES
I don’t’ mind people who have actually accomplished something being on the cover of People magazine or being discussed on the morning news, but I’d like to put some rules and limits on who gets their 15 minutes of fame and why. Being an idiot should not entitle someone to money or fame. The “Octomom” and her frightening lips continue to plague us, while a group of cretins from the New Jersey shore might make even Billy Graham begin to wonder if Darwin was on to something. I also don’t know where “Heidi and Spencer” came from, or what they supposedly did to get their names in the news, but I’d like to mark them all “return to sender” and get them off the cultural radar. They are an embarrassment to the human race.
HARD BUTTER
Why do restaurants seemingly store their butter packets in the freezer? There’s nothing worse than getting some nice hot bread or biscuits delivered to your table and then being offered cold little yellow bricks that tear and rend rather than spread and melt. Very frustrating.
SAMPLERS
No, I’m not talking about “appetizer samplers” (those are AWESOME). I’m talking about musicians who do not have the talent or ability to write their own music, but instead steal from others. Sadly, many young people, hearing these words or melodies for the first time, think that these “non-artists” are brilliant. They are not. With rare exception (like Kid Rock’s “Summertime”), these songs are neither a homage nor a tribute. They are cheap forgeries by people who can’t conjure an original thought on their own.
PRECIOUS: BASED ON THE NOVEL “PUSH” BY SAPPHIRE
If you have heard of this Academy Award nominated film, you should know that I’m not hating on the movie itself. It sounds like a great film about a very serious subject (child abuse), and I will probably try to see it. My issue is with the extended title. Either call it “Precious” or call it “Push.” You don’t need to declare your literary origin in the title. People who care will read about that in the credits. Besides, although we might recognize “by Jane Austin” or “by William Shakespeare,” most of us don’t have a clue who “Sapphire” is. Get over yourself. I rename you “Pretentious.”
GYM PEOPLE
I know what you’re thinking, and you’re mostly wrong. I think exercise is a wonderful and necessary thing. I genuinely wish that I enjoyed it more. My problem is with people who have a compulsion to let you know that they do it. You know the kind. They fit it into almost every conversation:
“sorry I’m late, I had to workout,”
“This yogurt is delicious…did I tell you I was at the gym this morning?”
“I wanted to attend my Uncle’s funeral, but it interfered with my spin class.”
I think there must be a course taught at the gym about “rubbing it in other people’s faces.” It’s not an attractive quality. At least not to fat people like me.
LEMONS
I enjoy a nice glass of iced tea. My preference is for sweet tea, but I can drink it with Spenda, Equal or even nothing at all. I like the taste of plain tea (not the flavored kind, thank you very much…not “peach tea” or “raspberry tea,” just plain old Lipton tea), and when I go out, that is my drink of choice. Here is my problem: most restaurants, for some reason, operate under the assumption that everyone wants “lemon” in their tea. If I wanted “lemon” flavor, I would order “lemonade.” Even more bothersome is when the server takes the time to ask if I want “lemon” in my tea, and then completely ignores my stated preference. Believe it or not, this happens nine times out of ten (and yes, I have completed an exhaustive and thorough study on this, with certified data to back it up). Yes, the only thing more frustrating than assuming that you automatically want lemon in your tea is to give you the option, repeat the choice of “no lemon,” and then spoil the lip of the glass with a sour wedge anyway.
Previous Pet Peeve Postings:
http://aimless-saunter.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-pet-peeves-part-one.html
http://aimless-saunter.blogspot.com/2009/08/another-pet-peeve.html
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Living
Bad things happen. It rarely makes sense and it’s rarely fair. It is the curse of life that we must also deal with death; both our own and of those we know and love.
Yesterday morning I learned that a co-worker and friend had passed away in the night. Darrell was only 38 years old and his sudden death came as a shock to all of those who knew him. He did not have time to say goodbye to his wife and young daughter. They did not have time to say goodbye to their loving husband and father. With the speed of the cold, smothering darkness when a light switch is abruptly turned off, he was gone. Eventually the memory of the light and warmth he brought to their lives will bring them comfort…but it will take time to get past the horrible shock of the moment.
In contrast to Darrell’s unexpected death, I learned last night that another friend back home in Shelbyville had passed away after a long, courageous battle with cancer. Debbie was just a little older than me. Her sister Jeannie and I went to school together, and like a lot of old friends have reconnected through Facebook. For the last year and a half I have watched their struggles and triumphs during treatment, as they fought to squeeze every last drop out of life before it slipped away. The photos of those smiling sisters, who didn’t let the gloom of the situation or the probability of the outcome stop them from living, were an inspiration and will continue to inspire as a way to deal with cancer and the threat of death with strength, humor and grace.
I cannot say that I knew Debbie or Darrell extremely well. They were both part of that periphery of friends who float in and out of our lives almost without notice until they are gone. It is only when you realize that you have missed that opportunity to know them better…to see them again…that you realize what you have lost.
My heart aches for their families. Both are dealing with loss and extreme pain. Whether you know the end is coming or it comes like lightening from a clear, blue sky, it hurts. I pray for comfort and some eventual peace for them all.
It’s natural (at least, I hope it’s natural and not just me being supremely selfish) to put ourselves into the situation. Most of yesterday I thought of my own family. I imagined the unbearable pain I would feel if I lost one of them, or the pain it might cause them if I were suddenly gone. I am far less frightened at the thought of dying than I am of the image of my wife and children having to deal with it. I don’t consider myself all that special, but I am who they’ve got. Even in my most self-deprecating moments, I know it would not be easy on them. Not for me, but for them, I pray they do not have to face that any time soon.
This year and this decade is barely a month old and we’ve already experienced death on a massive scale through the images of the catastrophe in Haiti. Now, some of us are dealing with it on a personal one. It’s a reminder that death is a constant, and somewhere, at any given time, there is a family that is experiencing a loss. They mourn their loved one, but also the fact that the life they knew will forever be changed. The fragile fabric of their existence has been torn and must be slowly and gently altered into something that fits the new direction they have suddenly been forced to take.
Although we can try to ignore the possibility of death, we can’t hide from it. It will eventually find us, and those we love. I’ve had these wake-up calls before, and after a while I’ve lazily fallen back into the slumber of the life I allow myself to live. Once again, I find myself saying (and hoping that I do better this time) that I need to live a life without regret; with purpose and a sense of urgency.
I know with every ounce of my being that I love my wife, my children and my family…but shame on me if I don’t tell them and show them every chance I get. There should never be a doubt in their mind or mine that we left anything unsaid. I pray that I will be quick to apologize for my many and ongoing mistakes. And for their sake, let them always know that no matter what is said or done, I have forgiven them before they even ask.
Yes, bad things do happen. The worst thing of all would be not to love and live to the fullest while we have the chance.
Yesterday morning I learned that a co-worker and friend had passed away in the night. Darrell was only 38 years old and his sudden death came as a shock to all of those who knew him. He did not have time to say goodbye to his wife and young daughter. They did not have time to say goodbye to their loving husband and father. With the speed of the cold, smothering darkness when a light switch is abruptly turned off, he was gone. Eventually the memory of the light and warmth he brought to their lives will bring them comfort…but it will take time to get past the horrible shock of the moment.
In contrast to Darrell’s unexpected death, I learned last night that another friend back home in Shelbyville had passed away after a long, courageous battle with cancer. Debbie was just a little older than me. Her sister Jeannie and I went to school together, and like a lot of old friends have reconnected through Facebook. For the last year and a half I have watched their struggles and triumphs during treatment, as they fought to squeeze every last drop out of life before it slipped away. The photos of those smiling sisters, who didn’t let the gloom of the situation or the probability of the outcome stop them from living, were an inspiration and will continue to inspire as a way to deal with cancer and the threat of death with strength, humor and grace.
I cannot say that I knew Debbie or Darrell extremely well. They were both part of that periphery of friends who float in and out of our lives almost without notice until they are gone. It is only when you realize that you have missed that opportunity to know them better…to see them again…that you realize what you have lost.
My heart aches for their families. Both are dealing with loss and extreme pain. Whether you know the end is coming or it comes like lightening from a clear, blue sky, it hurts. I pray for comfort and some eventual peace for them all.
It’s natural (at least, I hope it’s natural and not just me being supremely selfish) to put ourselves into the situation. Most of yesterday I thought of my own family. I imagined the unbearable pain I would feel if I lost one of them, or the pain it might cause them if I were suddenly gone. I am far less frightened at the thought of dying than I am of the image of my wife and children having to deal with it. I don’t consider myself all that special, but I am who they’ve got. Even in my most self-deprecating moments, I know it would not be easy on them. Not for me, but for them, I pray they do not have to face that any time soon.
This year and this decade is barely a month old and we’ve already experienced death on a massive scale through the images of the catastrophe in Haiti. Now, some of us are dealing with it on a personal one. It’s a reminder that death is a constant, and somewhere, at any given time, there is a family that is experiencing a loss. They mourn their loved one, but also the fact that the life they knew will forever be changed. The fragile fabric of their existence has been torn and must be slowly and gently altered into something that fits the new direction they have suddenly been forced to take.
Although we can try to ignore the possibility of death, we can’t hide from it. It will eventually find us, and those we love. I’ve had these wake-up calls before, and after a while I’ve lazily fallen back into the slumber of the life I allow myself to live. Once again, I find myself saying (and hoping that I do better this time) that I need to live a life without regret; with purpose and a sense of urgency.
I know with every ounce of my being that I love my wife, my children and my family…but shame on me if I don’t tell them and show them every chance I get. There should never be a doubt in their mind or mine that we left anything unsaid. I pray that I will be quick to apologize for my many and ongoing mistakes. And for their sake, let them always know that no matter what is said or done, I have forgiven them before they even ask.
Yes, bad things do happen. The worst thing of all would be not to love and live to the fullest while we have the chance.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Writing
I’m pretty deep into one of my whiny “what am I doing with my life” wallows right now. I usually get this way when I feel like I’m spinning my wheels…wasting my rapidly diminishing days away. I’m not a fun guy to be around when I’m like this. It’s probably good that I’m sitting alone in a hotel watching the cold wind blow snow around outside, otherwise I’d be bringing other people down with me, and who needs that kind of guilt?
Of course, some would say that it’s because I’m sitting in a lonely hotel room watching the cold wind blow snow around that I’m a bit depressed, and I appreciate their optimism. I just don’t agree with it. I’m used to sitting in hotel rooms alone. It’s kind of sad, but true. “Loner” is my middle name, so I really don’t think that’s the problem.
I think my problem is that I haven’t been writing. I did a lot of writing in 2009, and many of you humored me by reading and making the occasional comment. I felt productive, which is something I don’t often feel as an employee of the U.S. Government.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve started and deleted several blog pieces, none of which got very far. Any ideas I had seemed cursed as “too bitter,” “too pointless” or “too bizarre.” (I know what you’re thinking…”how is that different from any other blog pieces you’ve written?”) Writing is a process. My process is highly flawed.
Most of my recent ideas have been about triggered by current events, usually something stupid a politician said or did. Those are always fun to write, but since my last post was about politics, I didn’t want to repeat myself. Although I care about such things, I wonder if you would even notice? Most of my ideas have been about triggered by current events, usually something stupid a politician said or did. Those are always fun to write, but since my last post was about politics, I didn’t want to repeat myself. Although I care about such things, I wonder if you would even notice?
I’ve been tempted to start a separate blog, one that is completely political and can be easily ignored by those who either don’t like politics or don’t agree with anything I have to say on the subject. I wouldn’t take it personally. I ignore people I don’t agree with, like Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and that crazy, drunk homeless guy who sits on bench number four in Washington’s Dupont Circle. Writing a separate blog would be easier than having some poor, unsuspecting soul start to read one of my blog posts, expecting that it’s one of my whimsical walks down memory lane, or a description of my latest humiliation, and then learning, too late, that instead it dares to question the integrity of Sarah Palin, or argues the logic of not banning assault weapons.
The good thing (for me, at least), is that I can always find something to rant about in the political arena. It’s a rare week when someone in office doesn’t say or do something totally stupid which either ticks me off or makes me shake my head. Hypocrisy seems to be the one quality that most politicians have in common.
So…that is why I’ve decided to start another blog. I will not be linking it to Facebook Notes, so if you want to read it, you’ll have to sign up as a follower at the blog site. That way, I can write (which seems to keep me somewhat sane), and you can ignore (which might allow me to keep at least a few friends, as well as continued membership in both mine and my wife’s respective families).
Of course, some would say that it’s because I’m sitting in a lonely hotel room watching the cold wind blow snow around that I’m a bit depressed, and I appreciate their optimism. I just don’t agree with it. I’m used to sitting in hotel rooms alone. It’s kind of sad, but true. “Loner” is my middle name, so I really don’t think that’s the problem.
I think my problem is that I haven’t been writing. I did a lot of writing in 2009, and many of you humored me by reading and making the occasional comment. I felt productive, which is something I don’t often feel as an employee of the U.S. Government.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve started and deleted several blog pieces, none of which got very far. Any ideas I had seemed cursed as “too bitter,” “too pointless” or “too bizarre.” (I know what you’re thinking…”how is that different from any other blog pieces you’ve written?”) Writing is a process. My process is highly flawed.
Most of my recent ideas have been about triggered by current events, usually something stupid a politician said or did. Those are always fun to write, but since my last post was about politics, I didn’t want to repeat myself. Although I care about such things, I wonder if you would even notice? Most of my ideas have been about triggered by current events, usually something stupid a politician said or did. Those are always fun to write, but since my last post was about politics, I didn’t want to repeat myself. Although I care about such things, I wonder if you would even notice?
I’ve been tempted to start a separate blog, one that is completely political and can be easily ignored by those who either don’t like politics or don’t agree with anything I have to say on the subject. I wouldn’t take it personally. I ignore people I don’t agree with, like Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck and that crazy, drunk homeless guy who sits on bench number four in Washington’s Dupont Circle. Writing a separate blog would be easier than having some poor, unsuspecting soul start to read one of my blog posts, expecting that it’s one of my whimsical walks down memory lane, or a description of my latest humiliation, and then learning, too late, that instead it dares to question the integrity of Sarah Palin, or argues the logic of not banning assault weapons.
The good thing (for me, at least), is that I can always find something to rant about in the political arena. It’s a rare week when someone in office doesn’t say or do something totally stupid which either ticks me off or makes me shake my head. Hypocrisy seems to be the one quality that most politicians have in common.
So…that is why I’ve decided to start another blog. I will not be linking it to Facebook Notes, so if you want to read it, you’ll have to sign up as a follower at the blog site. That way, I can write (which seems to keep me somewhat sane), and you can ignore (which might allow me to keep at least a few friends, as well as continued membership in both mine and my wife’s respective families).
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Politically Incorrect
Who would have thought just one year ago, as we watched the triumphant, history-making inauguration of Barack Obama that his dreams (and many of ours) of a re-energized, united and thoughtful nation would be mired in the same old political muck today that we have been for years? Who could have imagined that our economy would not have been transformed, and that all our soldiers would not be at home safe with their families? In our wildest dreams, could we have foreseen that the battle over Health Care Reform would linger long enough to likely be destroyed by a man who once posed naked in Cosmopolitan magazine? It truly boggles the mind.
The Democrats should buy a box of tissues and prepare for a disappointing year, as the election last night of Republican Scott Brown to the Massachusetts seat of Senator Edward Kennedy proves that the tide is turning away from the promises of “hope” and “change” and back toward the balance of “nothing will ever get done.” Barring a miracle, the mid-term elections in the fall will no doubt shatter the majority standing that the Dems have held and wasted for barely a year now. As usual, when we have the opportunity of a lifetime (and fail miserably), they have no one to blame but themselves.
Proof of how far off track they have gone since the sweeping wins of 2008 is evident in the victory of Mr. Brown in a state that has voted Democrat for decades. Although certainly qualified (with a 30 year tenure in the National Guard and several terms in the Mass. House of Representatives and Senate), Brown is the polar opposite of Kennedy in his agenda, meaning that the majority of voters don’t mind that many of Kennedy’s personal goals (like health care reform), will probably be defeated under Brown’s vote.
What does all this mean? Does it mean that the voters in Massachusetts don’t care about health care? I don’t think so. I think most American’s, even Republicans, care about health care (although the Republicans probably care more about keeping their guns, stopping abortions and preventing gay marriage. After those things, I’m pretty sure that “health care reform” is pretty high on the list). But truth be told, Americans want results. We’re a result oriented nation.
The Democrats made the same mistakes that the Republicans have made in the past, and both will surely make again in the future (sadly, politicians seem immune to the lessons of history). They fell victim to their own individual egos.
It does take a certain bit of arrogance to run for office in the first place. You have to be able to look in the mirror and see a person who not only believes in themselves, but also believes that masses of others should also believe in them. Once the results of that election prove that to be true, their arrogance is totally affirmed. By the time they actually take office, their actions and opinions are less about the people they are supposed to serve than their own self interests, self promotion and adherence to the narrow party line.
The thing that upsets most of us, at least those who don’t get so caught up in the political bravado of one side or the other being absolutely right, is that while all this posturing and finger pointing is going on, serious issues needed addressing:
Health Care Reform: Health care is a basic human right. I’m sorry, but if you can look at a sick child and say “sorry kid, your Daddy doesn’t have a good job with health care benefits, you’re gonna have to just suck it up,” then you’re lacking the one quality that is required to participate in this discussion, “humanity.”
I believe these are some Health Care issues that most people agree upon (regardless of party):
• Children and Seniors should have unlimited access to medical services and medicine, regardless of cost
• Medicare should be protected and senior coverage expanded with better drug affordability
• People should not lose their homes or go bankrupt trying to pay medical bills.
• “Pre-existing condition” rules should be outlawed.
• There should be a reasonable, low-cost insurance option for all Americans (but this does not mean it should be illegal not to have it).
That’s five things that would make a big difference in our current heath care environment. I’d have been happy if two of those things had been implemented this year (heck, I would have been pleasantly surprised with one). These could have been done incrementally. I have no problem with “baby steps.” That’s how I learned to walk, and it’s worked for me for a long, long time. I didn’t need them to torch everything all at once and start from scratch. I’d have been happy with progress…any kind of progress.
But the arrogance of our elected officials would not let that happen. On the contrary, they had a “mandate” from the American people! Nothing short of a complete and total overhaul would suffice. Even if that were possible, it would take much smarter folks than those who just don’t get that the words “universal health care” are about as friendly to the ears of the average American as the phrase “you have rectal warts.”
“All or nothing,” was apparently the mantra of some congressional democrats, and “nothing” just might be the final outcome. A year of time wasted and the hopes of possible change cast aside in the shadow of hubris.
But that's just one issue that is still spinning around unresolved and presumably going nowhere. Congress didn't have substantial time to waste on serious disagreements over the environment, education and the stabilization of our economy.
For those who are laughing at this and saying, “I told you so,” I wouldn’t be so quick to brag. Republicans lost miserably in the last election for the same kind of political posturing and failure of service, so why should you expect anything different from this batch of eggs born from the same disease riddled hen?
We’re in big trouble folks. America’s wheels are spinning on slippery ice, and no one is making an attempt to find traction. Until we kind find some common ground and put aside all the posturing and differences, it doesn’t matter how many back and forth elections we have, we’re not going anywhere.
The Democrats should buy a box of tissues and prepare for a disappointing year, as the election last night of Republican Scott Brown to the Massachusetts seat of Senator Edward Kennedy proves that the tide is turning away from the promises of “hope” and “change” and back toward the balance of “nothing will ever get done.” Barring a miracle, the mid-term elections in the fall will no doubt shatter the majority standing that the Dems have held and wasted for barely a year now. As usual, when we have the opportunity of a lifetime (and fail miserably), they have no one to blame but themselves.
Proof of how far off track they have gone since the sweeping wins of 2008 is evident in the victory of Mr. Brown in a state that has voted Democrat for decades. Although certainly qualified (with a 30 year tenure in the National Guard and several terms in the Mass. House of Representatives and Senate), Brown is the polar opposite of Kennedy in his agenda, meaning that the majority of voters don’t mind that many of Kennedy’s personal goals (like health care reform), will probably be defeated under Brown’s vote.
What does all this mean? Does it mean that the voters in Massachusetts don’t care about health care? I don’t think so. I think most American’s, even Republicans, care about health care (although the Republicans probably care more about keeping their guns, stopping abortions and preventing gay marriage. After those things, I’m pretty sure that “health care reform” is pretty high on the list). But truth be told, Americans want results. We’re a result oriented nation.
The Democrats made the same mistakes that the Republicans have made in the past, and both will surely make again in the future (sadly, politicians seem immune to the lessons of history). They fell victim to their own individual egos.
It does take a certain bit of arrogance to run for office in the first place. You have to be able to look in the mirror and see a person who not only believes in themselves, but also believes that masses of others should also believe in them. Once the results of that election prove that to be true, their arrogance is totally affirmed. By the time they actually take office, their actions and opinions are less about the people they are supposed to serve than their own self interests, self promotion and adherence to the narrow party line.
The thing that upsets most of us, at least those who don’t get so caught up in the political bravado of one side or the other being absolutely right, is that while all this posturing and finger pointing is going on, serious issues needed addressing:
Health Care Reform: Health care is a basic human right. I’m sorry, but if you can look at a sick child and say “sorry kid, your Daddy doesn’t have a good job with health care benefits, you’re gonna have to just suck it up,” then you’re lacking the one quality that is required to participate in this discussion, “humanity.”
I believe these are some Health Care issues that most people agree upon (regardless of party):
• Children and Seniors should have unlimited access to medical services and medicine, regardless of cost
• Medicare should be protected and senior coverage expanded with better drug affordability
• People should not lose their homes or go bankrupt trying to pay medical bills.
• “Pre-existing condition” rules should be outlawed.
• There should be a reasonable, low-cost insurance option for all Americans (but this does not mean it should be illegal not to have it).
That’s five things that would make a big difference in our current heath care environment. I’d have been happy if two of those things had been implemented this year (heck, I would have been pleasantly surprised with one). These could have been done incrementally. I have no problem with “baby steps.” That’s how I learned to walk, and it’s worked for me for a long, long time. I didn’t need them to torch everything all at once and start from scratch. I’d have been happy with progress…any kind of progress.
But the arrogance of our elected officials would not let that happen. On the contrary, they had a “mandate” from the American people! Nothing short of a complete and total overhaul would suffice. Even if that were possible, it would take much smarter folks than those who just don’t get that the words “universal health care” are about as friendly to the ears of the average American as the phrase “you have rectal warts.”
“All or nothing,” was apparently the mantra of some congressional democrats, and “nothing” just might be the final outcome. A year of time wasted and the hopes of possible change cast aside in the shadow of hubris.
But that's just one issue that is still spinning around unresolved and presumably going nowhere. Congress didn't have substantial time to waste on serious disagreements over the environment, education and the stabilization of our economy.
For those who are laughing at this and saying, “I told you so,” I wouldn’t be so quick to brag. Republicans lost miserably in the last election for the same kind of political posturing and failure of service, so why should you expect anything different from this batch of eggs born from the same disease riddled hen?
We’re in big trouble folks. America’s wheels are spinning on slippery ice, and no one is making an attempt to find traction. Until we kind find some common ground and put aside all the posturing and differences, it doesn’t matter how many back and forth elections we have, we’re not going anywhere.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Good Sports
I started writing a blog entry a few days ago about college athletes and the scholarships they receive. I didn’t get very far. A few paragraphs in and I hit a mental block. (I know what you are thinking, “But Bruce, you don’t know anything about college sports or college athletes, and probably even less about college athletic scholarships!” That is pretty much true, but that’s the great thing about my blog, I don’t have to know what I’m talking about, I just have to pretend to know what I’m talking about. Sorry to burst your bubble).
Like a lot of my blog ideas I started with the greatest of intentions and a focused idea, only to find myself wandering off on a strange tangent. A few paragraphs of inspiration and frenzied typing followed by a lot of blank staring. Those “lost” blogs end up sitting unfinished in a folder on my computer I call “brain-dead.” Unlike many of those incomplete documents, I’ll probably return to my scholarship blog at some point because I didn’t necessarily lose my inspiration for the idea, but instead got sidetracked by a shocking turn of events this week in Tennessee sports.
Now, those of you who know me (or at least think you know me) are laughing right now at the thought that I could possibly get worked up over even one sports story, let alone two. I am not a rabid fan who has plastered my car with blue, red or orange bumper stickers. I don’t paint my face and attend games, screaming until my voice is gone, and if I watch Sports Center twice a year, it’s a miracle.
My interest in sports is more in the area of communal pride. When I was growing up in Kentucky, it was all about basketball. Living halfway between the University of Louisville and the University of Kentucky, I was surrounded by sports fans that were obsessive in their undying love for their chosen team. Most in my town were adamant UK fans. They had the hats, the shirts, the jackets, the bumper stickers, the flags that hung outside their homes, and most importantly, the attitude. The mantra was, “I am for U of K and whoever is playing against U of L!”
I never particularly understood that way of thinking. My feeling was and still is that we had two great ball teams in Kentucky, and if either did well, it made us all look good. I’ve tried to explain that idea to rabid fans and I just get blank stares, but that’s okay. I appreciate the loyalty they have to their chosen team, and as long as the rivalry doesn’t get too ugly or personal, I figure it’s not that big a deal.
Many of these UK fans were family members, so when I chose to attend the University of Louisville based on my personal educational needs and not basketball…I was a bit of an outcast. I still remember the awkward silences and cold stares I received at get-togethers. Blue blood runs deep. They took the game and their team much more seriously than I did.
After marrying Connie and moving to Tennessee, I was introduced to a new sports culture. Basketball was an afterthought. Football was the game, and EVERYONE is a UT fan.
With no choice but to either join in or be a social pariah, I started watching the games and learning a bit about college football. Since there are far fewer college football games than there are basketball games, those ten or eleven Saturdays in the fall became events. Plans were made amongst family and friends to gather at whomever’s house had the biggest television. The chosen menu was chili, and I learned that Tennessee chili did not have spaghetti noodles in it like Kentucky chili, but instead required Frito’s, shredded cheddar cheese and sour cream. I realized that I had a lot to learn about Tennessee and their game of football.
My Cardinal red blood began to take on a blazing tinge of orange and I watched the Tennessee Volunteers through the end of the Johnny Majors coaching era and throughout the Phil Fulmer reign. I rooted for Quarterback Peyton Manning and cheered his replacement Tee Martin and the 1998 team as they won the National Championship. By 2008 I was invested enough to agree that after 16 seasons at UT, Fulmer needed to step aside and let someone else lead. It was time.
Lane Kiffin was announced as the new head coach of the University of Tennessee Volunteers on December 1, 2008. Young and enthusiastic, he seemed like the perfect person to jumpstart the stalling team. In interviews he was brash, cocky and seemingly excited to be here. He brought with him an experienced group of coaches, including his NFL defensive legend father, Monte.
Despite a tough start to the 2009 season and a painful loss in the Chick-Fil-A Bowl game on New Year’s Eve, the team played well overall and he somehow performed a miracle and turned our quarterback Jonathan Crompton from a hit and (primarily) miss wannabe into a real offensive threat. It was an exciting, although sometimes frustrating, season to watch, but one that gave us great promise for the future.
Then…Lane Kiffin abandoned us.
Tuesday night, January 12, 2010 at approximately 8:40pm, as we are innocently sitting in our homes watching television, local channels cut into their regularly scheduled programming with the breaking news that Kiffin was apparently taking an offer to be head coach at the University of Southern California. First reactions seemed to be, “this has to be a mistake.” Then, as it became more obvious that it was not a mistake, shock, dismay and anger set in.
Some folks over-reacted. Many students on campus that night for the start of the spring semester the next day took to the streets and surrounded the athletic building where the announcement was being made. A mattress was burned and a big rock was spray painted with a multitude of profane threats toward Kiffin. Overall, the behavior was an embarrassment to the community, but not all that different than the reaction would have been at any other good sized college town. No arrests were made, no major property damaged (“no animals were harmed in the making of this protest”). College students don’t need much of an excuse to act crazy.
Kiffin’s justification for leaving was simple. Being head coach at USC was his dream job. He had been an assistant coach there for six years and this was the opportunity to go back and be the big man on campus. He explained that the Los Angeles area was home to him and his family. His children were born there. It was the only job that would make him leave Tennessee.
Pardon me while I wipe away a few tears. I love a happy ending.
So, those are the facts, give or take a few details. Kiffin came to Knoxville, signed a contract for multiple years for a TON of money (reported as two million annually, plus bonuses), assured the fans that this was the place he wanted to be and was appreciative of the opportunity. (Oh, did I forget to mention that just two months before he was hired at UT he had been fired as head coach of the NFL’s Oakland Raiders after a disastrously short run of only 5 wins and 15 losses? He was not the “Belle of the Ball” in any sense of the word. He was lucky to get the offer at the University of Tennessee, which he has since said is one of the top ten college football programs in the nation).
Now, I’ll be honest, after having some time to think about it, I can understand his decision. It was his dream job. We all have a dream job. (In my case it would be “not to have to work anymore and have plenty of money”). I’m sure that when he took the head coaching job at University of Tennessee he did not know that this new job would be coming available. Dreams are like that. We dream about them, but we don’t really expect them to come true.
Most of the frustration seems to be with the timing of his decision. One year is very short period in college football. It seemed like he had barely started. The image of his intoductory press conference was still fresh in our minds. I doubt that all the boxes moved into his new West Knox mansion had even been unpacked.
Worse than that, the stars aligned for him at an inopportune period for the Tennessee football program. New recruits were expected to start school the next day, and even more potential recruits are scheduled to visit UT over the next week or two. As news spread about the departure of Kiffin and the other coaches who will go to USC with him, many talented and sought after players are quickly reconsidering their decision to be a Volunteer. Fans who dreamed of a new start are now afraid that our team has been severely damaged.
In the big scheme of things, I don’t want to imply that this is a vitally important issue, particularly since on the same day Kiffin resigned from his little head coach job at UT the tragic earthquake in Haiti killed thousands and has left many thousands more injured and homeless. It’s just football, after all. It’s a game. Like almost everything else we usually worry about, it pales in comparison to the serious problems many people deal with day after day.
Still, I can’t shake the notion that there’s a bigger ethical dilemma lingering in this situation. How much do we owe to those to whom we’ve made a commitment? Can we simply walk away for our own selfish reasons? It’s a question that has plagued mankind throughout history: “How can I look out for Number One without causing a world of Number Two for others?”
Kiffin is not the first and certainly won’t be the last person to drop out of a commitment for personal reasons. It happens daily in marriages, jobs, and friendships; always with a “good reason” and usually followed by a half-hearted apology. It doesn’t take much for us to believe it will all work out for everyone as long as it appears to be working out for ourselves.
In an odd convergence on this theme, this week seems full of stories of commitment and honor (or lack of those things). NBC, Jay Leno and Conan O’Brien are battling over contracts and what was implied or promised (I’m team Conan, by the way). Sarah Palin began her tenure at Fox News after quitting her elected position as Governor of Alaska last July (a move that upset many Alaskans, especially those who supported her). I guess when she said "I love my job, and I love Alaska. It hurts to make this choice, but I am doing what's best for Alaska," she meant that by earning millions on a book deal and countless more being on television, it would somehow help the working class of her state. It will be interesting to see how that works out.
At some point we are all faced with decisions that put our own self interests in conflict with others feelings or needs. How we deal with those decisions say a lot about our character.
As for Lane Kiffin, he’s made his bed and he’s gotta lie in it. He may have forgotten, as most of us do when we don’t consider the impact of our decisions on others, that in order to live the dream, we have to be able to sleep at night.
Like a lot of my blog ideas I started with the greatest of intentions and a focused idea, only to find myself wandering off on a strange tangent. A few paragraphs of inspiration and frenzied typing followed by a lot of blank staring. Those “lost” blogs end up sitting unfinished in a folder on my computer I call “brain-dead.” Unlike many of those incomplete documents, I’ll probably return to my scholarship blog at some point because I didn’t necessarily lose my inspiration for the idea, but instead got sidetracked by a shocking turn of events this week in Tennessee sports.
Now, those of you who know me (or at least think you know me) are laughing right now at the thought that I could possibly get worked up over even one sports story, let alone two. I am not a rabid fan who has plastered my car with blue, red or orange bumper stickers. I don’t paint my face and attend games, screaming until my voice is gone, and if I watch Sports Center twice a year, it’s a miracle.
My interest in sports is more in the area of communal pride. When I was growing up in Kentucky, it was all about basketball. Living halfway between the University of Louisville and the University of Kentucky, I was surrounded by sports fans that were obsessive in their undying love for their chosen team. Most in my town were adamant UK fans. They had the hats, the shirts, the jackets, the bumper stickers, the flags that hung outside their homes, and most importantly, the attitude. The mantra was, “I am for U of K and whoever is playing against U of L!”
I never particularly understood that way of thinking. My feeling was and still is that we had two great ball teams in Kentucky, and if either did well, it made us all look good. I’ve tried to explain that idea to rabid fans and I just get blank stares, but that’s okay. I appreciate the loyalty they have to their chosen team, and as long as the rivalry doesn’t get too ugly or personal, I figure it’s not that big a deal.
Many of these UK fans were family members, so when I chose to attend the University of Louisville based on my personal educational needs and not basketball…I was a bit of an outcast. I still remember the awkward silences and cold stares I received at get-togethers. Blue blood runs deep. They took the game and their team much more seriously than I did.
After marrying Connie and moving to Tennessee, I was introduced to a new sports culture. Basketball was an afterthought. Football was the game, and EVERYONE is a UT fan.
With no choice but to either join in or be a social pariah, I started watching the games and learning a bit about college football. Since there are far fewer college football games than there are basketball games, those ten or eleven Saturdays in the fall became events. Plans were made amongst family and friends to gather at whomever’s house had the biggest television. The chosen menu was chili, and I learned that Tennessee chili did not have spaghetti noodles in it like Kentucky chili, but instead required Frito’s, shredded cheddar cheese and sour cream. I realized that I had a lot to learn about Tennessee and their game of football.
My Cardinal red blood began to take on a blazing tinge of orange and I watched the Tennessee Volunteers through the end of the Johnny Majors coaching era and throughout the Phil Fulmer reign. I rooted for Quarterback Peyton Manning and cheered his replacement Tee Martin and the 1998 team as they won the National Championship. By 2008 I was invested enough to agree that after 16 seasons at UT, Fulmer needed to step aside and let someone else lead. It was time.
Lane Kiffin was announced as the new head coach of the University of Tennessee Volunteers on December 1, 2008. Young and enthusiastic, he seemed like the perfect person to jumpstart the stalling team. In interviews he was brash, cocky and seemingly excited to be here. He brought with him an experienced group of coaches, including his NFL defensive legend father, Monte.
Despite a tough start to the 2009 season and a painful loss in the Chick-Fil-A Bowl game on New Year’s Eve, the team played well overall and he somehow performed a miracle and turned our quarterback Jonathan Crompton from a hit and (primarily) miss wannabe into a real offensive threat. It was an exciting, although sometimes frustrating, season to watch, but one that gave us great promise for the future.
Then…Lane Kiffin abandoned us.
Tuesday night, January 12, 2010 at approximately 8:40pm, as we are innocently sitting in our homes watching television, local channels cut into their regularly scheduled programming with the breaking news that Kiffin was apparently taking an offer to be head coach at the University of Southern California. First reactions seemed to be, “this has to be a mistake.” Then, as it became more obvious that it was not a mistake, shock, dismay and anger set in.
Some folks over-reacted. Many students on campus that night for the start of the spring semester the next day took to the streets and surrounded the athletic building where the announcement was being made. A mattress was burned and a big rock was spray painted with a multitude of profane threats toward Kiffin. Overall, the behavior was an embarrassment to the community, but not all that different than the reaction would have been at any other good sized college town. No arrests were made, no major property damaged (“no animals were harmed in the making of this protest”). College students don’t need much of an excuse to act crazy.
Kiffin’s justification for leaving was simple. Being head coach at USC was his dream job. He had been an assistant coach there for six years and this was the opportunity to go back and be the big man on campus. He explained that the Los Angeles area was home to him and his family. His children were born there. It was the only job that would make him leave Tennessee.
Pardon me while I wipe away a few tears. I love a happy ending.
So, those are the facts, give or take a few details. Kiffin came to Knoxville, signed a contract for multiple years for a TON of money (reported as two million annually, plus bonuses), assured the fans that this was the place he wanted to be and was appreciative of the opportunity. (Oh, did I forget to mention that just two months before he was hired at UT he had been fired as head coach of the NFL’s Oakland Raiders after a disastrously short run of only 5 wins and 15 losses? He was not the “Belle of the Ball” in any sense of the word. He was lucky to get the offer at the University of Tennessee, which he has since said is one of the top ten college football programs in the nation).
Now, I’ll be honest, after having some time to think about it, I can understand his decision. It was his dream job. We all have a dream job. (In my case it would be “not to have to work anymore and have plenty of money”). I’m sure that when he took the head coaching job at University of Tennessee he did not know that this new job would be coming available. Dreams are like that. We dream about them, but we don’t really expect them to come true.
Most of the frustration seems to be with the timing of his decision. One year is very short period in college football. It seemed like he had barely started. The image of his intoductory press conference was still fresh in our minds. I doubt that all the boxes moved into his new West Knox mansion had even been unpacked.
Worse than that, the stars aligned for him at an inopportune period for the Tennessee football program. New recruits were expected to start school the next day, and even more potential recruits are scheduled to visit UT over the next week or two. As news spread about the departure of Kiffin and the other coaches who will go to USC with him, many talented and sought after players are quickly reconsidering their decision to be a Volunteer. Fans who dreamed of a new start are now afraid that our team has been severely damaged.
In the big scheme of things, I don’t want to imply that this is a vitally important issue, particularly since on the same day Kiffin resigned from his little head coach job at UT the tragic earthquake in Haiti killed thousands and has left many thousands more injured and homeless. It’s just football, after all. It’s a game. Like almost everything else we usually worry about, it pales in comparison to the serious problems many people deal with day after day.
Still, I can’t shake the notion that there’s a bigger ethical dilemma lingering in this situation. How much do we owe to those to whom we’ve made a commitment? Can we simply walk away for our own selfish reasons? It’s a question that has plagued mankind throughout history: “How can I look out for Number One without causing a world of Number Two for others?”
Kiffin is not the first and certainly won’t be the last person to drop out of a commitment for personal reasons. It happens daily in marriages, jobs, and friendships; always with a “good reason” and usually followed by a half-hearted apology. It doesn’t take much for us to believe it will all work out for everyone as long as it appears to be working out for ourselves.
In an odd convergence on this theme, this week seems full of stories of commitment and honor (or lack of those things). NBC, Jay Leno and Conan O’Brien are battling over contracts and what was implied or promised (I’m team Conan, by the way). Sarah Palin began her tenure at Fox News after quitting her elected position as Governor of Alaska last July (a move that upset many Alaskans, especially those who supported her). I guess when she said "I love my job, and I love Alaska. It hurts to make this choice, but I am doing what's best for Alaska," she meant that by earning millions on a book deal and countless more being on television, it would somehow help the working class of her state. It will be interesting to see how that works out.
At some point we are all faced with decisions that put our own self interests in conflict with others feelings or needs. How we deal with those decisions say a lot about our character.
As for Lane Kiffin, he’s made his bed and he’s gotta lie in it. He may have forgotten, as most of us do when we don’t consider the impact of our decisions on others, that in order to live the dream, we have to be able to sleep at night.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
The Obligatory New Years "Self-improvement" Blog
The New Year always brings the promise of new beginnings and the hope of discarding bad habits. For most of us that wave of optimism lasts until about January 10 (maybe the 15th if we’re really dedicated…or the 4th if we have to start back to work too soon after the holidays).
I did not make a list of resolutions this year. It’s far too depressing to start the year off with failure. Instead, I have chosen to relax and try to simply enjoy the year and the life I have been blessed with. That’s an entirely new concept for me.
I’m a world class worrier. I get that from my Mom, who worries about people she’s never met. Her current worry obsession is for that little kid in the bank commercial who doesn’t get a real pony. She’s sure that the child will be scarred for life. I’m not that bad, but I’m close.
I can’t recall the last time that I stopped to smell the roses. If it had even crossed my mind to do it, I’m sure I would have talked myself out of it for fear of getting stung by a bee.
Too often, I've let life grab me by the collar and drag me past the spectacular creations that surround us. Who knows how many rainbows I've missed? Or how many dew covered spider webs I've walked by without noticing? How many times have I looked through one of daughters beautiful smiles or tuned out the glorious melody of their laughter? All of these things, and more, are gifts. To ignore them is a crime against myself.
I need to learn to say "no" to the things that don't really matter, and "yes" to the questions that never get asked. I need to take a nap when I have the opportunity so that I can be refreshed and awake when those wonderful surprises of life fall into my lap.
It’s not going to be easy. I’m barely half way through the first week and I’ve already had some work stress and a restless, sleep deprived night…but that’s okay. Change isn’t easy and it is almost never quick.
I need to be more like the tortoise; patient and wise. I’ve already got the round shape, and I’m prone to retreat into my shell, so now I just need to get my short legs moving and stay steady on course.
I did not make a list of resolutions this year. It’s far too depressing to start the year off with failure. Instead, I have chosen to relax and try to simply enjoy the year and the life I have been blessed with. That’s an entirely new concept for me.
I’m a world class worrier. I get that from my Mom, who worries about people she’s never met. Her current worry obsession is for that little kid in the bank commercial who doesn’t get a real pony. She’s sure that the child will be scarred for life. I’m not that bad, but I’m close.
I can’t recall the last time that I stopped to smell the roses. If it had even crossed my mind to do it, I’m sure I would have talked myself out of it for fear of getting stung by a bee.
Too often, I've let life grab me by the collar and drag me past the spectacular creations that surround us. Who knows how many rainbows I've missed? Or how many dew covered spider webs I've walked by without noticing? How many times have I looked through one of daughters beautiful smiles or tuned out the glorious melody of their laughter? All of these things, and more, are gifts. To ignore them is a crime against myself.
I need to learn to say "no" to the things that don't really matter, and "yes" to the questions that never get asked. I need to take a nap when I have the opportunity so that I can be refreshed and awake when those wonderful surprises of life fall into my lap.
It’s not going to be easy. I’m barely half way through the first week and I’ve already had some work stress and a restless, sleep deprived night…but that’s okay. Change isn’t easy and it is almost never quick.
I need to be more like the tortoise; patient and wise. I’ve already got the round shape, and I’m prone to retreat into my shell, so now I just need to get my short legs moving and stay steady on course.
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