The Turkey Trot

  Yeah. So, about a year ago, my wife tells me that she wants to run in the Turkey Trot this year. I was a little surprised to be truthful. My mouth was saying something like ‘Well, okay if that’s what you want to do’. But my mind was really thinking: ‘Why would anyone…? Are you kidding me…? What the hell is that about?!’

  For anyone unfamiliar with it, the Turkey Trot is a footrace that is held early on Thanksgiving Day. It is usually to raise money for some worthy cause like curing cancer or feeding the hungry. While I wouldn’t argue with that, the practical side of my mind wonders why we don’t simply donate the money and stay in bed on our day off. In my defense, I am naturally a night owl and get a second wind at 9:00 PM. Rising at 5:30 AM would never cross my mind unless our house was on fire. And even then it falls between maybe and probably.

  However, being a devoted husband, I found myself driving the 25 miles to the high school stadium where the “trot” was being held. I went with the understanding that I was purely support staff and nothing more. I would hold on to the sweater, encourage and meet up at the finish line.

  We arrived before the sun was fully up, and I was astounded to have to search for a parking space. The stadium was packed as though it was a NFL game during the playoffs. I was taken aback. Way aback. The streets were cordoned off for the race, and the sidewalks were jammed with trotters walking from their cars from every direction. Although it was a National holiday and businesses were closed, there was a sea of people. Older people, little kids, dogs on leashes, strollers and runners with furry turkeys on their heads. The atmosphere was alive and buzzing. Though I tried to remain an uninvolved observer, (since I felt that the interest would pass after she did it once) it was difficult not to get drawn in to the electric excitement.

  While my wife was running alone, I was milling around, fearing I might miss the parade on TV, or get the bird in the oven too late, something happened.

  I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but I suddenly knew that I was going to run in the race next year. Yes. There was too much fun, life and challenges going on without me. There were pictures being taken at the finish line, high fives, hugs and back slaps that made me feel like a real weinie for being satisfied with holding someone else’s personal effects. I was the bystander observing real life from the bench. No, this would not do.

  Well, nearly a year has passed since the turkey trot, and again my dear wife brings up the date, the registration and questions about me really participating. I marvel that the earth has actually revolved around the sun in what seems to be the length of time it takes to watch a bad movie.

  Should I have kept quiet? Did I speak up on a silly whim, and should I back out now?

  No, I registered and would follow through. I must admit that I had a few fearful visions in my head. One was of young, fit runners glancing nervously at a paunchy, mid lifer getting oxygen on a stretcher. Another was of an empty stadium, and a few officials being annoyed that they almost missed Thanksgiving because they had to wait for the last straggler to come through, which would be me.

  But alas, I did just fine. Not only did I make it, but I had a blast. There were amateur bands playing in driveways along the way, and encouraging people waving, wishing well and offering drinks of water. I ran until I gave out, caught my breath and ran some more. I count myself among thousands of others now. I am a runner. I am anxious for next year. I am angry at myself for dismissing it so quickly. But I am also fearful. What if there are other wonderful, fulfilling things that I have refused to consider? What else has been written off as something that’s not for me, that needs to be placed in the ‘Under Consideration’ box once again? 

Get Over It!!

One of the indulgences that I enjoy occasionally is watching an old movie. I recently caught a favorite of mine; Humphrey Bogart in “Casablanca”. The black and white cinematography, the actors that smoked continually and the tense background of a world in conflict all make it impossible to hit the channel button to pass over it. I’m drawn in each time.
The scene playing when I stumbled in was the maitre’de chatting with an older couple leaving war-torn Europe to start a new life in America. The lady told him in a thick accent that she and her husband only spoke English now; so they would feel at home in America.
Although I watched that scene a hundred times, it really came alive to me this time. Maybe because it is so unlike everything we hear today. The couple was excited and felt blessed to be in America soon. They couldn’t wait to get here. The opportunities, freedom and lack of tyrants filled them with anticipation and impatience. How refreshing to get something positive about our country.
Probably what made the contrast so stunning was the book I read recently. It was a college writing book that I picked up at a rummage sale. Some young, broke college student may have paid $75 for it. I picked it up for a buck since the art of writing has changed so dramatically in the last three months since a new edition came out. (By the way, that was sarcasm, and a slam to the book publishers).
I was reading the essay examples and various writing styles that the book used to educate that semester’s crop of young, impressionable minds.
I read about how a lesbian was made to feel in a group of non-lesbians; the way black people couldn’t identify with white co-workers, and a hard-hearted Neanderthal that was some student’s father.
No one is able to be a part of the society at large because they are different. Therefore, they are excluded and outsiders. Oh, the plight of these poor souls who don’t get a standing ovation when they walk into a room full of strangers. The isolation that they must feel when no one rolls a red carpet out because they are gay, black, Latino, single parents or have green eyes, or whatever perceived trait that the world should stop and recognize. My heart bleeds for the pathetic victims of… what? Life? The world at large? Boo Hoo! Welcome to the club! Now do something or get out of the way! Either way, stop the whining, since there have been real victims of real oppression over the years that have overcame huge obstacles.
My confusion comes when you listen to the people of these various groups that claim their life is so radically different from everyone else’s. They say that all they really want is to just exist alongside their neighbors and not be anything than part of the crowd. They want to live life just like everybody else.
But when they speak, the only thing they can talk about is how they’re different and need special handling and compassion.
One can discuss the weather, and somehow their group’s plight will come up. “Well, yes, but rain is really wet when you’re a gay, black Buddhist that speaks Vietnamese.”
Really? You really think that the whole world glides through life without resistance or problems and it is only you that struggles with issues, personalities or authority figures that don’t appreciate you? Please!
Getting back to the European couple, I long for the country that was known as the melting pot. We all arrive and bring along any talents, differences or quirks we have to the party. We may all benefit, suffer or both. But it is what it is. The dynamic is the mindset that we’re all on the same side. You may be a little weird, but you’re on our team! It is what made this nation great. You are part of the reason for our success. It shouldn’t make anyone angry. One doesn’t get that impression when people focus on the things that separate them from everyone else.
Instead of a Diversity Board, how about a Unity Council? Why not be a part of our society before listing everything that separates you from all of us? Try being an American first and then all the shades of nuance as an afterthought.

The Bully and the Little Guy

One day last week I struck up a conversation with a man I cross paths with occasionally. He works as a security guard and although it’s not a great job, he still keeps a great attitude. He told me how he was negotiating with the Internal Revenue Service since his taxes were in arrears. The agent wanted him to commit to $45 a month until it was paid. The man explained that at this time, it was impossible to pay that much. His wife was underemployed and their budget was stretched to the limit.
The IRS person was incredulous that anyone couldn’t afford such a small amount. The guard repeated his situation to the dull agent and again was diminished as either a liar or a loser.
The ironies in that story makes my head spin. For one, the man speaking with the condescending tone works for an organization famous for flushing billions of dollars down a hole. The Federal Government has never been known for spending money wisely. We have all heard of grants for ridiculous projects like treadmills for shrimp, or studies to understand why people smoke marijuana. I once heard of a $700,000 jet engine part being sold at an auction for $50. The buyer had to figure out what he bought.
The security guard, on the other hand, has every dollar accounted for on paper. He knows how much he can spend on which area and what his limit is. If he overspends in one area, he will come up short in another. If he spends too much on groceries, a utility bill won’t get paid. The resources available dictates how much can be spent. Unlike the Government, he doesn’t have a press to print more notes should he run short. Obviously, it’s a lot less money to manage, but it is being handled with care and frugality.
The money that this man will earn in a year is less than a rounding error for one budget for one department.
Another irony is the government gets its’ money from the citizens. It does nothing for it but stick its’ hand out. The guard must go out and earn every dime of his.
I was reminded of this when the gasoline prices spiked a few years ago. The media was all abuzz about the oil companies gouging the public. Oil companies explore, find, drill, refine and get it to the corner filling station for 5% profit or less per gallon. Conversely, depending on the state, government taxes add on forty to fifty cents per gallon. Every gallon, every day. They get fifty cents a gallon for… what? Letting you put it in your tank? Yes, there is gouging going on, but everyone is looking in the wrong direction.
The other paradox is the fact the drone in the cubicle works for the American public, including the security guard. How many of us would like to deliver our boss a good slap down and get away with it, to brutally speak our mind to some issue but we can’t because we want to come to work tomorrow? That’s what the IRS agent did. He has power behind him that allows him to disrespect the citizen that pays him without concern for recourse.
Ronald Reagan’s understanding of this is why he’s the greatest President of our lifetime. He said: “Government is like a baby. An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other.”

Restlessness

The word restlessness carries with it many different images. One of a person tossing and turning at night, unable to attain the deep sleep that they desire. Or someone unsettled in what they are doing. Being unable to decide where to go or what to do. Maybe it’s someone struggling with a major life decision and just can’t reach a conclusion that they feel good about.
As much as I hate to admit it, that is me on any given weekend to a large degree. It’s not the sleep example either. It is the feeling that I need to be about something important but feel like I just arrived and missed the informational part of the expedition. The door was locked on the briefing room and I forgot my entry badge. I’m trying to figure out my role in the whole mission. I absolutely know that I have one. That’s the component that causes the restlessness; what is it exactly? Someone is somewhere waiting for me … to do …something. There is a trajectory that could be altered in a good way if… If someone was at their assigned post, performing their duty. I may be the one asleep at the wheel. Maybe I’m the Snoopy that is supposed to stop the Red Baron (It’s a Christmas song from the seventies, for the younger readers) from his appointed destruction. But instead of suiting up and resolving to protect the skies to the death; I am making faces on the mirror that I fogged up with my breath. I’m deaf to the voice shouting, “Come on Man! The world is waiting! It needs you. Move now!”
Please don’t misunderstand. I am not a deadbeat. I’m out there in the world getting it done every day, every week, every year. It pays the bills. But I know there’s a lot more urgency to the world we live in than just keeping the cable hooked up for another month.
I almost admire some people I’ve met over the years that just live for the weekend; the allotted time to do whatever they feel like for as long as they like. It may be pointless, or a little stupid but they don’t care because it’s their chosen indulgence. It could be sports, alcohol, or the opposite sex, but they pursue it like there is no tomorrow.
I have traveled down those avenues to a dead end and find little satisfaction in it. I like to have fun but it’s not a life pursuit I suppose.
I comfort myself in the fact that surely everyone has these suspicions and doubts. Maybe they ignore them better than I do. Or maybe it is more settled for them. I know it is for my kids. They KNOW what they’ll be doing in this life. They make music, serve in the military; they write and take incredible pictures. There’s not much questioning or searching for them. They have it down and they have me beat me by twenty plus years.
For the rest of us weary travelers, carry on. Continue on the journey. Explore. Probe. Question. Seek. The Lord guides our steps. We’ll get there. Maybe a little late, but we’ll get there.

A Perspective Change

Gratitude is one of those things that have real power behind it, but most people don’t comprehend it. We all have things that frustrate us. Many complaints are completely justified. We are able to quote to a listener of our gripes chapter and verse as evidence that our “moaning” is absolutely justified. We are not whiners. We have proof that we’re right about this.
And we hear others do the same thing, which further cements our conviction that it’s not just us, but others see similar miscarriages of justice. And, hence, we go forward with the license to ignore any argument.
I, like anyone, have dissatisfactions that I grumble about. Untapped oil reserves while we desperately need oil is one of them; and burning corn in the form of ethanol while poor South Americans can’t afford tortillas is another, although related.
Furthermore, fast-talking politicians attack people trying to reform an institution like Medicare or Social Security. Although quickly going broke, suggested reforms are compared to shooting Grandma and kicking crippled children. Unspoken is the foolish concept that it is somehow kinder to let it go completely bankrupt as opposed to cuts to make it sustainable. These and a myriad of other things can drive me crazy if I let them. As Andy Andrews wrote, “What you focus on increases.”
And then, something happens… And it’s like a cosmic force suddenly changes the lens that we see the world through. Furthermore, it is stamped with a seal of authenticity that we inherently know we can’t object to or argue with.
Let me offer an example. As my daughter and son-in-law were traveling from Los Angeles back to their home in Texas, they were involved in an accident with a tractor-trailer. To be sure, their Toyota sedan was no match for the semi, and any gambler worth his salt would have bet on their instant demise. But, Thank the Lord, he would have lost. They both survived with only seat belt abrasions and fire ant bites from being examined in the grassy median.
There is no need to get graphic and describe what might have happened. It’s obvious.
What may not be obvious is the subtle working of Jesus Christ in the lives of His people. He takes care of things that we don’t even know is an issue yet. He orchestrates events and people in a moment that we couldn’t do in months. There was an off duty paramedic that assisted our kids till the ambulance came. A Pastor stopped when he saw the accident and prayed with them, as well as gathered their valuables thrown out of their trunk. A couple they never met before drove them to their car and then home two hours away. It was a miracle sandwich, one stacked upon another, all served up exactly when needed.
Such was my perspective-adjusting event. In one moment, life’s priorities become astonishingly clear. My kids are sore, but breathing. The car is totaled, but they will still visit at Thanksgiving. This mindset can apply to everything.
Even now, Washington D.C. is full of liars and demagogues. But beautiful, loyal loved ones that make my life worth living surround me. The sun rises and shines bright every morning. America continues to put her resources off limits when we need them, but I have a hot shower and fresh brewed coffee in the morning.
I am not a victim, I am thankful for more excellent gifts that I can put a number to. Instead of being frustrated about whatever issue, I rejoice that I was spared pain that I can barely imagine. God is good. Gratitude is almost as good. It is liberating in a world that can chain you up with concerns.
“Troubles melt like lemon drops…”

Misplaced Heroes

Have you ever wondered exactly what it is that makes a celebrity celebrated? It gets confusing when you see people that are wealthy, well known and sought after; one may analyze their success and still come away stumped. We see stars (or more accurately, stars are paraded before us) that are renown because they’re physically attractive, and… and … well, they’re physically attractive! They may not have two connecting brain cells but …Wow! They look incredible. What’s funny is that even that isn’t a true requirement. One may get around that as well.
I’m thinking in particular of the actor Charlie Sheen. He’s been getting a lot of press lately just doing what he does. You know, the usual Hollywood fare: Wife beating, cocaine snorting and being an all around fine example of a role model to the viewers of his stupid show.
But one has to wonder if he is getting attention because we are on the edge of our seat, anxious for what he’ll do next, or if we are being spoon-fed the antics of this moron.
Maybe it is my personal bias against the man. I don’t think he’s funny or talented. And most of what he says is barely coherent. Hence, my curiosity about why he’s popular. Please don’t think this is a “Sour Grapes” thing. It’s not.
I just think that in a nation of three hundred million people, Charlie isn’t the most brilliant bulb in our collective string of lights. That’s all.
It’s not even a question of who is best, richest or most talented at all. It comes down to: Whom do you admire? Who would you be like if you could? Whose shoes would you like to wake up in?
How does your answer reflect your values? Well, for me, Mr. Sheen is in the “None of the above” category.
If not Charlie, then who? I have one answer. But most people have never heard of him.
I landed a job a few years ago. A GREAT JOB! It was for a family owned company based in Florida where I live. The father of the current owners founded the company many years ago. He started out small, worked hard and risked everything. He had exceptional standards that he demanded of everyone in his organization. The level of excellence was evident to his customers as well as competitors. As employees, we knew we had reached the top of the food chain. There was nowhere else to go. We were at the summit.
Unfortunately, the company was bought out by a huge corporation in 2006 and very little even remotely resembles the original organization.
However, I recently heard the familiar name mentioned on the radio. As I listened, I learned that it was one of this man’s sons that heard someone’s vision to start a Christian radio station in Central Florida. He wrote a check for over a million dollars to begin the project.
It has been several years since that took place. That station has become a network of stations that touch people’s lives everyday with the truth and hope of Christ.
What does this have to do with Charlie Sheen? Well, I suppose it is a fact to be aware of that true greatness often lies above and beyond those ones thrust before us in the media. There are people who influence lives and make huge differences but you have probably never heard of them because they don’t seek the spotlight. They are interested in making a difference in the world, not a splash on the tabloids.
Certainly, they are not alone. There are many others. One obvious example is our troops. These are young men and women who risk their bright futures to serve and protect this great Nation. They shed blood and lose limbs. Many even die. Obviously it is not for the money, because the pay is pathetic. They are patriots. They are heroes. Unsung heroes.
Not one of them gets the appreciation or a fraction of the attention that a Hollywood cokehead gets, or a spoiled brat jailed for driving drunk gets. That is wrong. Often our values are upside down. I believe a clear perspective is important to have.
We should celebrate heroes and greatness and regard the senseless chatter for what it really is: noise.

I Love the Gov.

One of the challenges that I remember having as a young person, was trying to land a job and learning that they required experience. No one was willing to hire you so you could gain some experience. A classic “Catch 22”.
I was thinking of this recently when the new governor of the State that I live in was sworn in as Governor. Rick Scott was criticized for lack of experience. He had never been elected to any public office before. He was a businessman that was inexperienced in state politics. So goes the criticism.
As I pondered the argument, I wondered if Florida voters suffered from schizophrenia. If a candidate is the incumbent, then he is attacked for being mired in “Business as Usual”. He has many alliances that compromise his ability to lead impartially.
On the other hand, if the candidate is unheard of in political circles, an unknown, an upstart; well then, that completely ruins his chances since he has never done anything. One could get dizzy following both logics to their eventual conclusion.
This was evident in the 2008 Presidential elections. Sarah Palin’s credentials were diminished by referring to her as the Mayor of a small Alaska town. Um. I beg your pardon. I don’t want to nitpick, but she was the Governor of our largest state.
When some leveled the same argument against Barack Obama, (who was never a Mayor or a Governor) it was summarily dismissed. Being recently elected to the Senate with no legislative accomplishments under his belt, makes him more than qualified for President. We just don’t have anything to point to as evidence. But, no matter.
As I pondered all this, I remembered the resumes of our Founding Fathers. They were inventors, farmers, and businessmen. They were elected to their post. They served their time in Congress, and returned home to continue their life’s work. It never crossed their minds that they landed a gig for life. They served because they loved the Nation. They served to protect the freedoms that self-serving politicians threaten today. You know the ones, the ones elected because they are experienced.
Yes, Rick Scott will make his mistakes like everyone does. But I choose to support him. We must take that chance. The status quo has led us down a dead end of entitlements, debt and bureaucracy that we may never find ourselves free from. We can go down the same road full speed ahead until we hit that brick wall. Or we can be a courageous people and make the tougher choice for the option without the guarantee but heavy with hope.