My two month "sabbatical" begins...

This year, my family was presented with a wonderful and unique opportunity.  We are going to spend two months at a summer camp in Maine.  My wife is going to work for the camp while my three boys attend it.  Since my job allows me to work from home, I'm able to come along... in the words of my boss:  "Do you have an internet connection and phone signal?  Ok, have fun"  :)

Allison's family has been involved with this camp for many years.  Back in college, she was a counselor here... and by doing this, she will get to see her mother for 2 months... which is a real blessing- because of geographical distance, she and her mom see each other maybe a couple of times a year...

Due to Matthew being involved with the daily entertainment at Vacation Bible School which ended at noon on Friday, we were forced to drive 1900 miles in 2.5 days, as our goal was to arrive by 8:00pm on Sunday, in time for the first of a weekly ritual of the camp... the Sunday night campfire.   This weekly session of sharing, singing, and skits are some of the most important touchstones of this experience.  We made it, but just barely....

[caption id="attachment_117" align="alignnone" width="300"] Our first campfire gathering[/caption]

I'm not a night person, so before this campfire was over... I was really starting to hit the wall, especially after a 12-hour drive that day. But even in my somnolent condition, I was struck by one thing so strongly that I pulled out my journal and wrote about it.

The counselors at this camp, comprised of young people of college age or just a little older, literally come from all over the world.  Many of them are former campers, and their presence added a vibrancy that was tangible, a vibrancy that comes only from young men and women in the start of the prime of their lives, who have the whole world before them... with nasty old things like mortgages and PTA meetings and what not WAY OVER the horizon.

These young folk provide the bulk of the skits, songs, and other presentations done at campfire, and the energy and commitment they have to travel this far and mentor younger kids was something to behold... it felt like a pure, raw power that could be tapped.  I felt like Rand Al' Thor, knowing that the full power of saidar was there, ready to be grabbed ahold of and used to do wonderful things.

And it also served as a reminder... yes, the countryside here is stunning... the vistas are overwhelmingly beautiful... the climate is so much more enjoyable than Texas... but in the end, it is the people that make a place magical.  These wonderful children of our Creator, (whether they acknowledge him or not), and the pure power of the hope and dreams of their lives and their young charges who will arrive in a few days... it makes this place sing.

And oh, I'm looking forward to hearing the rousing chorus... bring it!

Why did I cheer the Great Home Run Race?

" In the past decade the game and the bodies of those who play it have lost their cartoonish outrageousness, as have the statistics they produce. In the nine seasons before steroid testing, players crashed the 50-home run threshold 18 times, the 60-home run barrier six times. In the nine seasons with testing, there have been only six 50-homer seasons. Nobody has hit 60."  -  'To Cheat or Not to Cheat' by Tom Verducci, Sports Illustrated, June 4 2012

Do you remember the Great Home Run Race?   Sosa and McGuire, duking it out with each other and the ghost of Maris... and even the wraith of The Babe channeled through Maris' stress and discomfort?   How we cheered as the laughing Sammy and the taciturn McGuire stalked and hunted one of the most vaunted records in the game of baseball.

It was a heady time.  For me personally, it became a healing catharsis of sorts, helping  pull me back to baseball after the disaster of the cancelled World Series of 1994.  I remember listening with my wife to the radio in the car as McGuire tied the record.  It was a great time, and I cheered as loud as any fan returning to the Great Game.

Within just a few years, an absolute nimrod would come along and eclipse the whole thing.. both the record and feelings.  Like a harbinger of doom, that man's record chase was the crack in the door through which we all peeked and saw the filth within.... the home run chase that we cheered was a sham... a vial of snake oil sold to unsuspecting commoners at the county fair.

We should have known.  I should have known.  I have more than my fair share of cynic in me.  If this were the movie "Eight Men Out", I would be one of the sportswriters (the portly, dumpy one, not the tall, thin one) casting a jaded eye on the whole process, circling the faces of the players that I knew were doing something wrong no matter what the charged atmosphere.

So now, years later... I wonder... why did I cheer?  I wish I hadn't.

You might ask... why does it matter?  And to that, I would answer this:  one of the great attractions of baseball is that it is played by men of relatively normal statures.  I measure in at 6' 2" tall... and almost all the point guards in the NBA are 5-6" taller than I am.  Football players are ginormous.  Olympic swimmers have wingspans wider than they are tall, or can bend their feet completely back and some such.   Baseball is a game that can be played by guys like David Wells and John Kruk.   Hand-eye coordination matters more than hulking mass or freakishly perfect physiology.  Despite the heroic stature we often accord them... these boys of baseball look like us... and that is important.

Steroids changed that.  It turned the boys of baseball into something more than normal, and at the expense of their compatriots who chose not to cheat, and in violation of the trust of fans, and at great cost to themselves.  And those same steroids fueled the Great Home Run Chase, and nothing we do now can undo the taint on that year...

And I look back and think... why did I cheer?

 

Baseball's glorious season end, Part I

Gus: It's a throwaway, Billy. It means nothing.
Billy: Not to the Red Sox.

--"For the Love of the Game"

This is the first of a series of blogs about the wonderful end to this years MLB season, and the subsequent postseason.  You have been duly warned :)

Baseball had a whirlwind end to the 2011 season... as exciting and finger-nail destroying as I've seen in years.  I could go into all the details of what happened that final day, but if you love baseball, you know what happened.  The disastrous collapse of the Red Sox and the Braves.  The incredible comeback of the need-a-defibrillator Cardinals.  That crazy, had-to-stay-up-to-wee-hours to see it all wrap up finish.  But that's not what I want to talk about.

The quote above is from the Kevin Costner movie "For the Love of the Game".  Costner plays Billy, a pitcher at the tail end of his career.  At the beginning of the movie he is warming up and the pitching coach tells him he shouldn't be pitching with his nagging injury, since the game means nothing.  Costner looks at him with that clear-eyed steely gaze he does so well, and says "Not to the Red Sox."  The message is clear... he owes his best against this team, because the Red Sox are battling them for something important.  He will bring his "A" game because it honors the game and the teams who do have something to play for, something to gain.

That was a movie.  Over the last week of the 2011 baseball season, we saw it in real life.

In the last few days, all the division winners were locked up.  The only thing in play for them was who ended up with better records for home-field advantage.  The wild card races were where it was at, and none of them were playing each other.  All of these exciting games as baseball steamed to the marathon finish line were played against opponents that no reason to play hard...  other than to honor the game.  Because it meant something to the Cardinals for the Phillies to play Atlanta hard;  it meant something to Tampa Bay for the Orioles to bring it in their final series.

And all of these teams stepped up.  Philadelphia could have eased up in preparation for the playoffs, but they played hard... played strong defense, and hustled on on offense.  The Orioles, one of baseball's worst teams in 2011, played Boston like they themselves had a chance to nick a wild-card spot.

And it made a difference.  A big difference.  And for us lucky fans who were watching, we got to see a honest-to-goodness, real-life "For the Love of the Game"

Suburban Braveheart

One of my sons is a soccer goalkeeper, and we have retained the services of a private GK coach.  His practice sessions are held in the coach's suburban neighborhood, at a little community park.  This past week, my son and his coach were working hard out on the grass, while I sat in the car under a huge shade tree, windows down, reading a magazine.

Suddenly, on the other side of the park, a horde of kids comes running over the crest, bellowing at the top of their lungs.  I'm talking at least 25-30 young boys and girls.  They are all wearing bandanas tied around their foreheads, and ragged strips of cloth hanging from their clothes.  At first glance it reminds one of a vignette from "Lord of the Flies"... or even "Braveheart".  I half expect a pint-size William Wallace to appear at the top of the grassy knoll, raise a Nerf sword above his head and scream "Freeeeeedooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmm!"

And, lest you think my overactive imagination is the only force at work here.... rest assured that I'm not the only one.  This scene was so surreal and displaced that everyone in the park stopped what they were doing and just stared.  The GK coach, Matthew, the kids and the YUMs (Young Urbanite Moms) in the playground area.  Everyone one looked and stared and wondered.  So this is not just me :)

Finally, the tail end of the Mongol onslaught included some adults, who negotiated grassy space with the coach and setup the flag football game that was to celebrate some young man's birthday.  Pictures were taken by the fountain pool, and the game of fútbol Americano con banderas commenced.... and all was explained.

Bandanas on the forehead, marking two teams-- red and blue.  The strips of cloth, upon closer inspection, were flag football attachments.  The Scottish Clan fervor provided by birthday sugar ingestion.

But, deep down....  I like my version better.

 

A truly haunting book for this October...

October is a fun month for some many people, those who love a good fright or all things Halloween.  For whatever reason, it has never been my thing... I don't particularly enjoy horror movies (I find most preternaturally silly), I don't frighten easily,  and the haunted house thing never got my ticker ticking.  This year, however, I've read something that has haunted me, indeed shaken me to my very core.  And everyone needs to read it as well.  If you have kids, you need to read it.  Having seen what it contains, you need to decide exactly when your kids should be allowed to read it, and then make them read it.  And then you need to discuss it with them.

If you don't have kids, but are part of the human race... you need to read it.  Does that pretty much cover it?  Are we clear on this point now?

The book is "Th1rteen R3asons Why", by Jay Asher.  You will find it in the Young Adult section.  Oh, and BTW, the New York Times Bestseller List.  I came upon this book because of a review I read in one of my magazines.  And so I added it to my library 'reading list', and picked it up one day while my boys were running around getting Hardy Boys books....

Fair warning:  this book is very disturbing.  Unsettling, I-have-to-put-this-aside-because-I'm-having-a-down-day-myself disturbing.  And yet its power and engagement comes from just how disturbing and unfortunately realistic it is.

Mr. Asher tackles one of the most prevalent blights on our modern society in this novel-- teen suicide.  Set in a fictional town, a young man receives a series of cassette tapes in an anonymous package.  The tapes turn out to from a fellow high-school student who committed suicide a few weeks before, and the tapes serve as the novel's plot engine and an audio diary of a troubled young girl and the myriad events and people in her life who play a part in this drama de la muerte.

The author does a masterful job of creating a realistic scenario of this tragic teenage life.  This story could be set in any town, at any public high school.  And if you think these things don't happen in your local school... I can only say "OPEN YOUR EYES!".  Yes, these things are happening.  And too many of us make the same errors you will read about in these pages..... we close our eyes.  We avert our eyes.   We don't get involved.  We blow things off.  We stand by and let evil happen.  And evil flourishes when we do....

Read this book.  Have your kids read this book.  Discuss it with your kids.  Find a way to get them to talk to you.  Find a way to keep them sharing with you all the deepest things in their hearts.  BE the kind of parents they can feel comfortable confiding in, a safe haven they can run to when Life gets like it does.

Teach them that "Everything... affects everything" (p.202).  Every action we do, everything thing we say, every inappropriate joke, every evil act no matter how hidden, every good act omitted, every time we avert our eyes.... we affect everything and everyone.  No one lives in a vacuum.  When you throw the rock in the pond, you make a lot of ripples... far more and further-reaching than you can even  fathom.

Teach them to take care when dealing with other human beings, no matter who they are.   We are all God's children and should be cherished and treated with care.  Teach to them recognize when others are not doing this, and to stand up and protest.  Teach them to look past the shallow, to squelch the gossip, and to befriend the friendless.

Teach them, in other words, to practice the 2nd of the Greatest Commandments, and then pray fervently that they will have the fortitude to do so in the face of the type of world Jay Asher so brilliantly captures through the eyes of Hannah and Clay.

Want to be haunted this October?  Get a copy of this book and read it cover to cover.  Weep for the depravity of man and for a broken world that will not change until the next age, when a new Kingdom is established.  And then do whatever you can to hold back the tide in your little town, your high school, and the lives around you... lives that you and yours.... affect.

"Everything... affects everything"

Random thoughts from the State Fair

The family and I went to the State Fair yesterday... and once again my observation skills and off-kilter mind gathered these random inane thoughts to scattershoot..

• One of my pet peeves (and I know it shouldn't be) is people who really struggle to work electronic devices in public areas.  For example, I get kind of frustrated at grocery stores when people use the self-checkout, and don't really know how to... I want to tell them:  "They have lanes over there... with these people who will check out your groceries.  That's the ticket for you, trust me" :)  So, we're at the Dart train station, and it is taking *forever* to get our day passes from the vending machine because people can't figure out the instructions.  They kept trying to put their cash in first.  What part of "1.  Select your fare /  2.  Insert your payment" is unclear?


• So, when I finally get up to the machine, I'm getting our tickets, and I here someone behind me say "I'm going to watch this guy... he seems to know how to work this thing"  LOL


• Allison spent most of the train ride turned around in the seat because the backwards-orientation of the train was giving her motion sickness.  Benefit?  I got to see her pretty face the whole way :)


• There's a passage in the Laura Ingalls Wilder book "Farmer Boy", where the dad gives Almanzo a 50-cent piece, but only after explaining how much farming work is represented by that coin; as a result, Almanzo begins to value money better and spends it wisely.  Had a similar incident with Matthew yesterday...  when I told him that the drinks we bought to go with our sack lunch cost $20 in coupons... I thought I was going to have scrape his jaw off the floor.  It was a great teaching moment, and he understood for the first time why we control the spending at the State Fair so rigorously.


• Matthew loves cooking, and wanted to sit through one of the "chef sessions", so he and I watched Chef Chris Vogelsing from III Forks make Chateaubriand.  Towards the end of these sessions, they bring out little sample plates of the food, one for everyone who is sitting in the roped area.  They also have these mirrors and video screens that show the cooking area from a "top-down" view.  I got tickled at something I noticed:  here we have a chef from one of the top restaurants in Dallas, making a classic French dish... and they are bringing the samples out on a Dickeys BBQ tray.  Only at the State Fair of Texas!


• The Killdares were magnificent, as usual.  Heard two new songs today.  One instrumental and one vocal.  Very nice.


• Took Matthew to the climbing wall in the Jeep section of the auto show.  He asked for the harder path.  It took him less time to climb than it took to fill out the waiver and stand in line.


• Matthew loves Dodge cars... and when he sat in the gray Dodge challenger, I told him one of The Killdares has one just like that.  He thought that was pretty cool....


• Funny thing about my boys:  one likes Ford, one likes Chevy, and the other likes Dodge.  We've got the American car scene pretty well covered.


• During the Marine Drum and Bugle Corp performance, we got to see one member receive a promotion to Master Sergeant... that was quite a thrill.  His wife was also honored with flowers from the CO, since they were celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary this month....


• After Ryan finished his deep fried chocolate strawberry, I was really wondering if they just decided to roll him in the confectioner's sugar, rather than the actual dessert....


• The twilight State Fair parade:  the same exact floats and participants every year... and I wouldn't have it any other way.


• At the "Birds of the World" show... an absolutely delicious and hilarious moment.. Groucho the talking parrot was singing for us, and one of the songs he sang was the French children's song "Alouette".  Why is this funny?  Because the song is about plucking the feathers out of a little bird.  I'm laughing my fool head off and people are giving me some funny looks :D


• Speaking of the bird show... this was the first time we arrived early enough to it to get a good spot... 2nd row, right in the middle.  Had a great time watching Allison freak out when the birds flew right over her head or dragged their feet almost into her hair :)


• The things we do as Dads:  as we were waiting for the train so we could leave, Logan announced that he had lost his little pumpkin that he painted.  So he and I went back and convinced them to let us back in long enough to look at the last place we were at, when the boys bought Dippin' Dots.  Pumpkin was nowhere to be seen.   Interviewed a man eating a chicken leg on the bench, and he had seen the pumpkin, but said it was gone when he came back from purchasing the poultry.  Tracked it down to a State Fair worker who had been cleaning, and she had swept it up;  we recovered it from her dustpan, wiped it off, and finally got to leave with a much happier little boy.


• I managed to lose my sunglasses during the day.  For some reason, that is a quirk of mine... I lose/break/scratch so many sunglasses that it is not even funny....

This year, thanks to the generosity of some friends, we will be going to the fair twice.... I look forward to doing it all over again, enjoying the sights and sounds of this grand brotherhood we call the human race at a great festival gathering....

Random thoughts while driving around during "Dad's time away"

"Oh, she says well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go online 
and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? 
And so I pretend not to hear her. 
And go out to get an envelope because I'm going to have a hell of a good time 
in the process of buying one envelope. 
I meet a lot of people. And, see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. 
And I give them the thumbs up. And, and ask a woman what kind of dog that is. 
And, and I don't know... 
The moral of the story is, we're here on Earth to fart around."
--Kurt Vonnegut

Today I got to do one of my favorite things... I took some time by myself and ran some errands, and "... I don't know..." just farted around :) No kids, no lovely DW... just me... and I'm often content just to drive around as I do a few errands, observing the changes in the cities and neighborhoods along the way, and observing this diverse and rich body of humanity that teems all over my suburban Texas stompin' grounds....

The danger to this is... my very strange brain begins to work overtime, since I'm not constantly answering questions from my children, and the input devices observe things, and the computer whirs and bangs, and releases steam, and out comes the random thoughts, some mundane and some weird, all of which are, truthfully, only interesting and humorous to me, myself, and I. Ignoring that little nugget of helpful personal insight, and in the spirit of "If you don't write it down, it never happened", I record my Kurt Vonnegut trek here....

• The distance from my house to our normal Walmart is almost exactly one "American Pie" in length.  Yes, that song by Don MacLean.  Long one of my favorites, and just long enough to make it to the parking spot.  However, this highly scientific assessment is based upon hitting the same number of red lights, with similar lengths...


• There is an egg company in our little town- they no longer produce the eggs here, but are still headquartered here and have some buildings over where their facilities used to be.  There is a sign out front that got me tickled, that said in effect:  "Warning:  Agricultural site.  Possibility of occasional dust or strong odors".   Well, hello, Captain Obvious!!


• Fishtrap Road is a really, really, cool name for a road.


• Stopped at a gas station to buy a drink, and a mother and her teenager daughter came out, headed to their car.  After they passed me, I heard a high-pitched squeal and turned around to see a very embarrassed middle-age lady with a sheepish look, who then identified her assailant as a.... grasshopper.  She had the maturity of spirit to be able to laugh at herself, which is a marvelous trait.


• I always have mixed feelings when I see new businesses that have not survived... I feel sad for those whose livelihoods are effected, yet feel sanguine about the  continuing process of the free market system doing its thing, and also feeling a tad guilty because I know I didn't go eat there, or purchase their wares, very often if at all.  Ah well, I'm just one little ol' consumer after all.....


• Related to the item above:  one of the things I dislike most about where I live is that it is almost impossible for any restaurant, bar, entertainment venue, etc to survive if it isn't part of a large chain that people are comfortable with.   The little unique places with character and great product that people make into their "place" just don't survive on a regular basis.  So, a 30-minute drive takes one past the same chain after chain after chain, and inside they all look the same...but I don't really want to hang out there, or frequent it any more often than the next Big Box place, rotating among the types as my appetite or procurement needs require.  I don't really like them, per se

Now that I think about it, part of me thinks Kurt Vonnegut would agree with me on that last one.