ROLE MODELS

   
  Whether we like it or not if we are an adult we are a role model.  You cannot deny this fact if you watched the Little League World Series this past week.  Watching these mostly 12 year olds was like watching a major league game.  The skill level was obviously different but not much else. 

These kids had all the moves.  You could watch them in the batter’s box and tell who their favorite player is.  While waiting for a pitch some had a hitch in their swing, some held the bat out towards the pitcher; others crouched or pumped their elbow up and down and some stood with their forward foot way back in the batter’s box until the pitcher was well into his wind up before bringing his foot forward.  Any half baked baseball fan would recognize all these moves as the spitting image of many star major league players.  And speaking of spitting, most were spitting continually.  What they were spitting is beyond me because I did not see any chewing tobacco.  Thank God. 

Even in their interviews on TV the kids had all the jargon of grizzled veterans.  The boy who drove in the winning run speaking into the camera as millions watched explained “The ball felt good coming off the bat”.  What!!!  Tell me that is not something Gary Jeter would say, not some 12 year old kid. 

Further proof of the “role model” pudding was the personality of the two teams.  As you watched for a while you noticed all the players took on the persona of their respective coaches.  The Japanese coach was very outgoing, filled with laughter and always smiling.  Then you noticed all his players were laughing and smiling their way through the entire game.  They even smiled when they struck out. 

The American coach was much the opposite.  He was like maybe it wasn’t cool to smile.  He was very serious and showed little emotion.  Guess what, his players were all the same.  Although I must say they went bananas when the winning run crossed the plate.  In stark contrast to the losing Japanese team who, within seconds of the end of the game, lined up stoically at attention, facing the field, tears streaming down their faces.

My point is, if you are an adult and particularly if you are a parent, someone is watching.  They may just absorb your day to day conduct as a friend, boss or parent.  Or they may be on the receiving end of your lessons on how to live life.  In either case the old “Do as I say, not as I do”, finishes a distant second to teaching by example.  As is the case with the little league baseball players, what you do is “cool” to those you influence.  Live your life accordingly.      

MOM

I think about my Mom quite often.  Like almost every day.  I know this is quite natural because there is no more unique and special person in one’s life than their mother.  You may not think so when you are growing up and they seem to fail to understand that you really don’t need any help navigating your way to adulthood.  Then, later in life when you are raising your own family, you become acutely aware of how special mothers are. 

While raising your family there is nothing you are doing that your mother didn’t do for you.  Staying up with you at night while suffering from an ear ache, changing diapers, feeding you and getting you dressed.  You weren’t always the big person you are now.  Then the teen years, God help mothers during the teen years. 

I bring this up because my Mom and I were very close.  I was fortunate enough to marry, raise our family and live all of her life within ear shot, for which I will always be grateful.  My Dad was the source of untold number of lessons that have helped me along the way, my Mom provided me priceless core values.  I believe in my heart I was a good son.  But since her leaving us I have lived with the nagging feeling that I should have done more during the last year of her life.

A good friend of mine who was Mom’s doctor called and told me tests had confirmed she had ovarian cancer.  The following months there were countless visits to doctor’s offices, labs, and hospitals.  These were followed with months of chemo and radiation treatment.  Never, never a word of complaint or a “Why me?” 

In her own quiet way Mom was as strong and tough as any human being I have ever known.  She fought as best she could but was losing ground.  It was during the last month of her life that I now realize I should have done more.  Just as in my childhood I was oblivious to all a mother does, the same can be said of this phase of her life.  Not for lack of love or caring, I just was not tuned in like I should have been to someone whose life was ending.  I thought I was but I wasn’t. 

The reasons are too numerous to enumerate here but there was one particular evening that stands out crystal clear to me and speaks volumes about what she was going through.  We had finished  dinner and then chatted about various things.  She was not much for small talk so if she did decide to talk it was a special time.  Shortly after the nurse arrived that would spend the night with her, I tucked her into bed and was getting ready to leave.  She grabbed my hand and said “I wish you could stay.”  I explained that I had to get home to my family and I left.  From that day until now I have not felt good about leaving that night. 

If somehow God would grant me a do-over I would not have left her side from that moment on for the short time she had left.  Lord knows I have a wife who would have said “Do whatever you want to do” had I asked. 

She was a great lady who possessed more kindness in her little finger than most people will ever have in a lifetime. 

 

   

THE PRIVILEGED

Recently I have heard President Obama and Timothy Geithner use the term “privileged” when referring to those they feel should be carrying a larger share of the load than they already are.  I looked the word up on Dictionary.com and found the following definitions: 1. belonging to a class that enjoys special privileges; favored: the privileged few.  2. entitled to or exercising a privilege.  President Obama and Mr. Geithner have deemed people privileged by having exceeded a certain level of annual income.

Setting aside those that won the lottery, inherited a fortune or benefited from some other stroke of good fortune; I feel there are certain characteristics germane to this group they call privileged.  Somewhere along the line they made the decision to take whatever steps necessary to improve their lot in life.  Maybe, through education, they prepared themselves for a desired career or improved their worth in the job market.  In the pursuit of that education they surely missed out on many fun things others were doing.  If they were not fortunate enough to have family help, they may have worked two jobs and weekends, taken night classes, often taking years to achieve their educational goals. 

Maybe they saved their money, started a business in their garage and rolled the dice on an idea they had.  I am sure taking risks is common among these people.  Funny thing is, when you take risks it doesn’t always work out.  Maybe your idea was not a good one or trends, fashions or tastes changed and what was a booming business goes in the tank.  You had a good thing going for a while, made a decent income, provided jobs for some people then all of a sudden it’s all gone, your home, retirement fund, savings, everything you ever worked for.  Nobody passes the hat for you.  You’re on your own.  Failure is common among those that take risks.  But so are perseverance and the desire to get off the floor and try again. 

More power to those content with a 9-5 job, weekends and holidays off and a nice, paid vacation every year.  I am sure they have enjoyed many of the truly important things in life that others miss out on.  There is much to be said for never missing a birthday party, first at bat or graduation.  Not everyone is cut out for nor desires the stress and long hours demanded of others pursuing their dreams. 

Those that put in long hours to excel at their chosen line of work and the business owner that does not have the luxury of clocking out at 5 on Friday afternoon, know the price they pay and are willing to make the effort.  Call them industrious, driven, determined, ambitious and often lucky, but don’t call them privileged.  In most cases, whatever they have achieved, they have earned.             

DAD'S APPROVAL

I was watching Friday Night Lights, one of my all times favorite TV shows the other night.  It happened to be their final episode after a pretty good run.  As most shows that have been successful, Friday Night Lights was being given the dignity of a series ending show as opposed to being axed and disappearing with no word of explanation from the network.  Given that luxury the show was tying up loose ends among the many fantastic characters they had developed during the series.

One of these loose ends was an on again off again relationship between Matt, a local high school football star and Julie, the daughter of Matt’s football coach.  After graduating from high school Matt had moved away to Chicago to pursue a career in art, thus initiating the off again portion of the relationship.  Julie had gone to a small Texas college and left no doubt as to the off again part.    

In this show they hook up again in their home town, Dillon, Texas and Matt gets down on one knee to propose to Julie on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant.  She says yes.  Then he tells her he wants to do things the right way and ask her father for her hand in marriage.  Julie strongly objects but Matt goes ahead with his plan.  Her father goes ballistic and says something about hell freezing over.  Matt says he is over 18 and his doesn’t need his permission anyway.  The show ends with there being little doubt that Julie and Matt will wed.

This brought back memories for me.  Many moons ago, on a blind date, I met this vivacious blond babe with the most gorgeous smile I had ever seen.  I sensed before we met that this was THE ONE.  I proposed on our third date.  She said yes.  Then, being the gentleman I am, I let Terry (the blond babe) know that I would be coming to her house to ask her Dad for her hand in marriage. 

To set the stage for you, Terry is from a good Catholic family and the second oldest of nine kids.  They lived in a small, 2 story, 3 bedroom house.  Her mother and father lived in the only downstairs bedroom while the 9 kids shared the rooms upstairs.  There was a stairway, off the dining room that led to their rooms.

I arrived about 8 o’clock on the big night.  I won’t say I was nervous; apprehensive might be a better word.  Terry welcomed me into the living room where I sat facing his honor.  For some reason I felt the need to engage in some meaningless banter while building up my courage.  Finally, mid-sentence, while talking about who knows what, I said “I would like to marry your daughter and would love to have your approval”.  While I am sure he relished holding my feet to the fire, Joe (Terry’s father) graciously granted his approval and said he would be proud to welcome me into their family.  While I had not been in doubt about the outcome I was very relieved that this was over and content with myself that I, like Matt, had done the proper, manly thing.      

I was to find out later that the rest of the family was lined up on the stairway out of sight, listening to the entire conversation.