Out of My League

I have the best job in the world. I get to see the world through the eyes of kids. I am amazed at the wonder they see. I am amazed at the hope and passion they possess. I am truly amazed at how pure things really are for them.

We are leaving on Monday morning, at 6AM I might add, for a trip to Disney World. I (43) have been once and loved it. I went to Disney Land once but that doesn’t count. My beautiful bride (37) has been three times. Our eldest (13) has been twice. Our middle child (12) has been once. And, our sweet precious baby love child (5) has never been. He is so cited [sic].

Let me tell you why…

rj-and-disney 

(click above to see video)

 Like many of you when I was old enough to push the mower… I was allowed to push the mower. How exciting that time was. How short lived the excitement was. Every week I had to push that mower around our yard. My Dad was a bagger. We bagged the clippings. Not because he was against being ecologically minded. This was in the seventies and mulching mowers hadn’t hit the retail market yet.

I learned in my early teens that the lawn mower was the bane of my existence. I learned how to manipulate the mower so it wouldn’t start. I could only do this when my Dad wasn’t home as he wouldn’t fall for the tricks. He was too mechanically minded to let me get by with not working.

The days of fooling my Mother were ended by my Dad. That was the day my world changed. My Dad was a hardware man. He spent most of his adult life as a manager in a hardware store. Occasionally he would bring home great pieces of hardware technology. The hardware tool that changed my life is pictured below.

 This is a new model. Not the model my Dad brought home. This lawn mower is electric. It plugs into the wall. It starts every time with the flick of a switch. No more fooling Mom. No more skipping mowing days. Technology changed my life… and not for the better. Mowing the cord was not an option… too dangerous.

So… mow I did… mow everyweek… always mowing… today… I don’t care much for mowing… I dream of…

 A zero turn radius mower. Riding mower. Sit and work… ahh the good life.

ro∙mance (rō-măns’, rōmăns’)

n.

1.a. A love affair. B. Romantic involvement; love.

2. A mysterious or fascinating quality or appeal, as of something adventurous.

3.a. A medieval narrative telling of the adventures of heroes and extraordinary or mysterious love affair.

4. A story or film dealing with a love affair.

Romance is a very mysterious thing to me. So, let’s chat. Send me some feedback on what you think romance is. What is romantic to you? What is the most romantic thing your significant other has done for you? Respond to this post and I will add your response.

Let’s do some math…

     Groundhogs Day is observed on February 2nd.

     Valentines Day is observed on February 14th.

My friend and mentor in this area, Jeff Clark, has done some math that we need to review now:

     Groundhogs Day = February 2nd

     February 2nd = X

     Valentines Day = February 14th

     February 14th = Y

I’m not sure of Jeff’s actual beliefs on the matter, but my understanding of them is that Valentines Day is a made up holiday. In today’s modern era it’s a day created/sustained/maintained/promoted by florists, greeting card companies, and candy manufacturers to make more money. I neglect to mention the fine jewelry industry. Lump them in with the previous group. They all want to pad the bottom line. The ladies in our lives have fallen for this modern day fleecing of America. They continue to believe.

Time for more math…

     if Feburary 2nd is = 1 day… thus X = 1

     if February 14th is = 1 day… thus Y = 1

     so…

    if X=1 and Y=1 then X must equal Y (X=Y)

Thus the logical thing for the ladies in our lives is as follows…

     If you want a nice dinner cooked at home on Valentines… we expect the same on Groundhogs.

     If you want a meal out on Valentines… we expect the same on Groundhogs.

   If you want jewelry on Valentines… we know what causes jewelry… now don’t we.

 We need to unite on this gentlemen.

Unite to bring equal rights to men…

In honor of Martin Luther King… here is the speech that many remember…

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Let those two titles soak in! (I’ll wait…)

It’s the thanksgiving season and I have a little bit of idle time.

I was counting my blessings today. The list is endless. Life is very good!

I went to see North Texas play Western Kentucky today. I only got to see half of the game because my two companions were ready to abandon ship during the first quarter. It was raining. They were cold. I made them hold out until halftime. They got colder… they couldn’t get wetter. We left. It hasn’t been a good season for my Alma Mater. While I was making dinner, a trip to sonic, I was listening to the post game show… North Texas 27… Western Kentucky 26.

I missed out on a great second half of football. I let me two companions know what they made me miss… they are twelve… they will forget about it… what? They already have. My Dad made me change the channel during the 1979 Cotton Bowl because the University of Houston was spanking one of my favorite teams, Notre Dame. Notre Dame won. Probably the greatest come back in Cotton Bowl history… I didn’t get to see it. I haven’t forgotten.

Today made me think about all the things I have been able to do in my life… and all the things I need/want to do in the time I have left.

In his book, Lou talks about his list of things he wanted to accomplish. He broke this list into five categories… including financial, professional, spiritual, husband/father, and excitement. Lou listed the following from his excitement category;

            Jump out of an airplane

            Land a jet fighter on an aircraft carrier

            Travel the ocean in a submarine

            Go white-water rafting on the Snake River at Hell’s Canyon

            Be on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson

            Attend a White House dinner with the president

            Meet the pope

            Go on an African Safari

            Become a scratch golfer and play the Top 50 golf courses in the world

            Run with the bulls in Pamplona

In the five categories… Lou listed 107 goals… achieving 99 at the publishing of his book.

So… that’s what I’m going to do… start a list… of things to do and places to see… and see how many I can scratch off before I wear out my last pair of shoes… the list starts below. Feel free to leave a comment with suggestions… I might just add it to my list.

     Jump out of an airplane (yes… a perfectly good airplane)

     Bungee jump

     White water raft

     Throw out the first pitch at a major league baseball game (without the one hop)

     Play one on one with Mark Aguirre (my basketball hero)

     Earn a doctorate in education

     Finish my career as a high school principal

     Live in a foreign city for six months to a year.

     Spoil my grandchildren (this one can wait about 20 years)

As of this posting, my blog is worth $1,693.62. I’m not really sure how it’s worth anything, but the little box to the bottom left of this post says it’s worth the afore mentioned amount.

As of this posting, Greg Farr’s blog is worth $14,113.50. WOW! INCONCIEVABLE!

One of my strengths is competition. I love to compete win. I know it’s not a competition with Greg as I am not in his league. He is everywhere! His posts are on numerous sites and he is quoted often in other blogs.

To give you an analogy, and let’s face it you knew we would eventually get to analogies on this post, Greg’s blog and writing skills are definitely D1. My blog and writing skills are so, how shall we put this, NAIA or even D3 if you will.

               Greg Farr : The University of Texas : : Greg Bicknell : Appalachian State

Okay, I picked Appalachian State because that means there is hope for me.

Words can be so powerful when strung together in just the right way. And believe me, I don’t always string them together appropriately and the redpencilpoliceperson (aka my wife) comes to the rescue. Greg has such a gift. He has the gift to push your buttons. To provoke you. To make you angry. What a gift. The gift that makes you think.

My goal is to someday put enough words together in a most coherent way so that you, the reader, will want to buy what I have to sell. That is, buy my blog. I want a new car. A small foreign convertible. I have a picture if you want to see it… it’s sweet. If only I could write like Greg Farr, but for now… I’m competing against Greg and other’s like him… and I’m out of my league.

I feel it is only fitting that I dedicate my first blog to the beautiful and intelligent woman that is sitting next to me. I’m sitting in a blogging/podcasting class on my seventh wedding anniversary. My bride of seven years is sitting in the chair next to me furiously working on her first blog. I know many men that wouldn’t be able to do what we are doing today. We have a full day planned. This training… followed by lunch… probably with a group of people… followed by the remainder of the training. When the training is over we will pick up two of our three children. Riley has swim lessons at 6. Then it’s off to vacation bible school for Riley and Tyler. Drew has a baseball game at 6:30. Finally when they are all at their destination… Angie and I will be enjoying a few hours out on the town. Something simple… small talk… exchanging gifts… food… and then… off to get the boys. There is no doubt… and everyone that we know will agree… I married out of my league… way out of my league… and my life is the better for it! I love you Angie!