No Foolin'

Originally published on The Nameless Valley Blogger (4 April 2014)

April 1^st came and went uneventfully again this year.  None of my friends attempted to pull an April Fools prank on me. No one ever does. I would like to say the reason I don’t get pranked has to do with my incredible ability to smell a rat, or the fear of what dastardly shenanigans I might return to them as a form of retribution. Alas, no. It is has more to do with the fact that pranking me is too easy, and there is no payoff because I just have no enthusiasm, positively or negatively, for the art of the prank. Allow me to explain.

It started when I was ten.  It was approaching Christmas and I was certain beyond any doubt that I was going to be receiving an Atari 2600 game system. I had stacked the deck in favor of this since it was the only thing I asked (begged) for and since I was the last kid on the block to have one. I figured I was due.   My lobbying effort, along with a little tear of wrapping paper and a quick peek at the biggest box under the tree, convinced me I was right.  Did I get a little arrogant?  It’s possible. Did I strut around the house singing an annoying made up song about getting an Atari?  Most definitely.

The big day arrives and I confidently rip away the wrapping paper concealing my long awaited prize.  The box is glorious, the Atari 2600 on the top, a picture of plastic perfection.   A huge, smug smile on my face as I open the box and empty the contents to reveal…rocks. ROCKS!!  A sane, logical boy would surely have realized that a prank was in the offing.  No mother would go through the trouble of finding the box of the one thing her son so desperately wanted, fill that box with rocks, and present it to him on Christmas day.  Unfortunately, my little boy brain lacked that logic.  In my mind I imagined my mom going to the store, purchasing the Atari, making her way over to the poor side of town, giving the contents of the Atari box to some less fortunate child, a boy who would be grateful for this Christmas miracle, then bringing the box home, filling it with rocks, and giving it to me in order to teach me a lesson!   I began bawling. I melted down like Velveeta in a microwave.  My mom, and my step-sister, who was in on the gag too, began bawling.  They started throwing other presents at me and yelling for me to open them.  It was the Atari. Every piece boxed individually.  They explained that they knew I had been sneaking around the tree and had already figured out what I was getting so they thought it would be funny to see my face when I opened the box and it wasn’t there.  Wasn’t very funny was it Ma?

Four years later I got my first job bussing tables part-time at a Mexican food restaurant.  After my first shift ends the guys in the kitchen tell me they have something for me.  Apparently it is customary for the cook to make a meal for a new employee at the end of his first shift.  The sour cream chicken enchiladas looked appetizing, and the first bite wasn’t bad.  On the second bite I noticed something was off.  Out of politeness I tried another, that’s when it occurred to me that these enchiladas reminded me of the time I got punished for saying dirty words.  Yes, the “chef” had filled the tortillas with soap, not chicken. Hilarious…the entire staff got a really good laugh out of it but I did not get it.  Not because I was the victim and not because I was embarrassed, I just thought it was mean.

Why do we love to laugh at someone else’s misery?  The awkwardness, the brief moment of panic, the kick in the groin, I know it’s a temporary pain and in the long run hopefully everyone, including the victim, is able to laugh about it, but it just makes me very uncomfortable.    I am pretty sure I am in the minority on this.  Pranks have probably been around as long as we have and April fool’s day pranks can be documented back to the Middle Ages.  I was bombarded on Tuesday via social media with announcements of fake firings, fake resignations, fake engagements, and fake divorces. Of course companies did what companies always do, turn any minor holiday into a marketing bonanza, so I also was introduced to fake new products, fake mergers and other assorted fakeness that just made me tired. 

Honestly, I love to laugh. I think I have a good sense of humor.  I just find that most April fool’s related humor falls into two categories; either it lacks imagination, or it is cruel, and in the worst cases it is both.   Maybe you have a different opinion. If so I would love to hear it.  Just don’t wrap my car in foil because that is a waste of good aluminum.  

The Man I Love

Originally published on The Nameless Valley Blogger (29 Mar 2014)

  I am in love with a man.  Shocking right? You might not want to hear about it but I would like to tell you about the man I love. This man I am in love with is older, by about 2000 years.  He is smart. He seems to know everyone and everything and anything that anyone has ever done.  Armed with that knowledge you would think he would be extremely judgmental and have a low opinion of humanity, I mean imagine the evil he has seen.  Really it is quite the opposite. He loves people, every last one of us.   His capacity to love people is amazing. He even loves those sinners; you know the ones, the 7 billion of them that inhabit this planet.

The man I love is kind.  He stands up for the poor and the oppressed.  He forgives wrongdoers, even the ones who have done wrong directly to him.  He would never throw a rock at someone as a punishment for their lifestyle, and he would never, ever, protest the funeral of a soldier to further a hate filled agenda. Again, the man I love does not hate people, he loves them.

That is not to say he is passive or permissive.  One of the things I love about him is that he knows right from wrong, it’s almost like he wrote the rules himself.  He calls me out when I’m wrong, and I am wrong a lot.  That is not judgment or condemnation. That is accountability.  He does not condone sin.  People seem to have this idea that because he hangs around with sinners that he is totally cool with sin. He is not. But the man I love would rather be a bright light for us than shine a bright light on us and all of our junk.

This wonderful man, I’ll call him “J”, he loves children.  He loves their minds, their hearts, and their ability to believe.  It saddens him when children suffer.  He wants every child to be loved and fed, and that is much more important than who happens to be holding the spoon.  I know, hard to imagine.  He just cares that much.

The thing is, and this is the thing that made me fall in love with him in the first place, “J” values love above all other things.  He loves us and wants us to love each other.  In fact, you know that old saying ‘love thy neighbor?’ He made that up!  If you want to know who your neighbor is, watch the movie “Gravity” starring Sandra Bullock and George Clooney.  When you see the big blue ball they orbit around, just know that everyone who lives on that ball is your neighbor, everyone.

I am sure by now you have figured out that the man I love is Jesus.  Maybe you love him too, maybe you don’t.  Maybe you would like to meet him and maybe you think he doesn’t even exist. That is your prerogative.   The purpose of this post is not to convert you to Christianity or try to “shove religion down your throat.” I am simply saddened by the misrepresentation of Christ in our culture.  Extremists on the right and on the left have propped up Jesus as a symbol of their cause when nothing could be further from the truth.  Jesus does not pick sides because all of humanity is of concern to him.  He does not rank sins in order of most to least heinous because to a perfect God all sin is the same.   He does not wave a red flag or a blue flag because believe it or not he is not even American! 

Jesus is love. He wants to take away your sins, not your sensibilities.

Listen up!

I am writing for a new blogging site called www.thenamelessvalleyblogger.com  This is the first piece I posted there...more are coming and I will link them here as well. Enjoy.

I love to talk. More to the point, I love to be heard.  It has been that way since I was young.  I remember the one consistency on my elementary school report cards was a check mark in the space designated for those who had a problem with “talking in class.”  Being heard, being visible, being significant, has always been an important thing to me. It makes sense that I chose to make a living in broadcasting. Being heard, being someone who matters, important stuff.

Talking has served me well. I have been very lucky to put a few meals on the family table through my abilities with the spoken word.  As I grow older, however, I am finding more and more that being heard, being noticed, talking…is overrated.  Sure, it is nice to have a voice, and my voice, like any other, has a right make itself heard.  But now I am beginning to really understand that there is something much more important to a life of meaning than being heard; and that is hearing.  More to the point, listening.

Hearing is involuntary. If you have working ears, you hear.  That is why I don’t like the term “selective hearing.” I prefer the term “selective listening.” We live in a world where we hear lots of things, but we control what we listen to. I call it the “earbud effect.”  With a pair of earbuds we can essentially tune out the entire world and listen to only that which gives us satisfaction and comfort.  That is dangerous, not because it might damage our ears (this is not really about earbuds, after all), but rather because it keeps us from experiencing and considering the voices of those with whom we might not agree, or those that make us uncomfortable.

“The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood. The best way to understand people is to listen to them.”  --Ralph G. Nichols

We used to debate, and it was good! The reason was we listened to one another.  Yes, I wanted you to hear what I had to say, to understand my feelings, but I was willing to listen to you and consider your feelings as well.  Where has that gone?   Now instead of debating we argue, and the point is no longer to judge ideas based on their own merit but to win a shouting contest. 

This mindset has polluted everything from politics to religion and dominates pop culture.  We have become so afraid of being wrong, of being seen as the loser, we won’t even allow for the possibility that someone who opposes us could actually have good ideas.  We stopped listening. 

I find it amazing that great minds throughout history valued listening over talking, have learned more from their failures than their success and yet we continue to define our personal value by the sharpness of our tongues and the wars we win, however petty those may be.

One of the reasons I was interested in writing here was the idea that this would be a site where opposing viewpoints could co-exist in an atmosphere of civil discourse.  I have opinions. I am not a fence sitter, but I don’t want to sit so far on one side of the fence that I have no clue what is happening on the other. After all, the grass could very well be greener over there. 

We have two ears, one mouth. I believe that is intentional. It’s my goal to learn more than I teach, to listen more than I talk, and to be smarter tomorrow than I am today. Feel free to chime in, I am listening.

On our TXA 21 Game of the Week we did a short tribute to one of our good friends, former North Crowley coach and teacher Ken Kershaw.  Because of time restrictions the tribute was not as long as I was hoping it would be so what follows is the full text of what I was hoping to say...

Texas high school football lost one of its biggest fans and greatest supporters when Kenneth Kershaw passed away on April 19^th of this year as the result of an automobile accident.  Coach Kershaw was a Texan, born in Brownsville, and he was passionate about all things Texan, especially hunting, BBQ, and high school football.

Coach Kershaw earned a Masters degree from TCU in 1988 and spent his entire adult life  teaching and coaching on the high school level, first at Fort Worth’s Western Hills, then on to Marble Falls in the Texas hill country.  After that is was back to Fort Worth and stops at Pascal and Southwest high schools before finally settling at North Crowley in 1999.

He was a successful coach, helping to lead baseball and football teams to winning seasons…the ultimate athletic prize came his way in 2003 when, as an assistant football coach, he was part of the magical North Crowley run to the 4A DI State Championship..

Athletics was only part of the Ken Kershaw story though…a beloved and respected educator, he was named North Crowley teacher of the year in 2003 and 2004 and Educator of the year in 2005.  His students marveled at how he knew the mascot for every high school in Texas, and how he could tell them about the best barbecue restaurants in any small Texas town…he pushed his students to excellence, and they loved him for it.

Coach Kershaw loved what he called “small ball” high school football on the 1A and 2A level..so its fitting that his family and friends are celebrating his life tonight at Waco ISD stadium where Bosqueville and Bartlett are squaring off in a “Battle of Bulldogs”.

Ken Kershaw absolutely adored the sport of Texas High School Football, so let me say this final thought in a way I think he would appreciate…On the scoreboard of life the points are not given for fame, money or possessions…rather they are earned by faith, the lives you touch, and the good that you do…by that measure Coach Ken Kershaw didn’t just light up the scoreboard, he blew it up.  I know I speak for his wife Sara, his kids Kristine and Kurt, and countless other members of his family and his friends when I say Coach, you are loved, and you are missed.

Football season is upon us!  The odometer on the year 2012 has officially rolled into August and that means it is time to start thinkin' bout football.  My wife, love her as I do, does not enjoy this fact.  To her there is still much summer left on the calender and thus we should not be focusing our attention on the gridiron just yet.  But we know better don't we?  Why, if you are just now starting to pay attention to your teams two-deep or if you haven't even purchased your copy of Dave Campbell's Texas Football, you are lagging behind!  So with that in mind, let's get geared up for the upcoming football season by going back a couple of seasons to one of the greatest games we have ever broadcast on TXA 21.  The State Quarterfinal matchup from Dragon Stadium between Coppell and Euless Trinity. Click on the link and enjoy!

http://legacysportsnetwork.com/LSNTV/Coppell-Trinity.htm

A Letter Home from a Traffic Jam

(This is what happens when I watch the Ken Burns documentary on the Civil War and then get caught in traffic the next day)

My Dearest, Warmest, Bridgette,

The fondest wish of my heart is that this letter finds you well.  It has been 50 terrible minutes since I departed my work post and set about for our homestead.  The caravan of motorized wagons that ensnares me stretches beyond the ability of my eyes to discern its end. It has vanquished all hope of forward momentum.  Our procession has slowed to such a degree that a wounded mule carrying two 100 pound gunny-sacks of sorghum could advance more rapidly were he of a mind to do so.

I fear that I may never look upon your lovely visage again my darling.  I long for the evenings when we would enjoy each others company in the parlor whilst watching the box with the moving pictures.  All the while the air circulator above our heads rotating swiftly, giving us a rather refreshing breeze.

If I perish on this God forsaken stretch of blacktop, tell the children that my final thoughts were of them, and you of course.  I must endeavor to.....oh cool honey it's starting to break up..gotta go!

Your most devoted and humble and kind hearted and goodly mannered husband,
Douglas

18 April, 2012

Why Bounties are Bad. Period.

Here is what I don't want to hear about bounties:
1) It's Football
2) Everybody Does It
3) Players will try to put other players out, money or no money.
4) As fans, our bloodlust is what brought this on.

That's ridiculous. Period.

Bounties are not an inherent part of football and if they are then I really have to re-evaluate whether or not I am interested in watching this game anymore.  Football is voilent, no question, but it is supposed to be an honest violence.  Boxing is violent.  Boxers are out to hurt each other.  But boxers know going in that is the goal.  They line up to face each other in the ring and they know that they are getting ready to beat each others brains in.  It is what they sign up for.  Football players, professional or not, do not sign up to be the subject of cheap shots or overly aggressive hits because some 300 pound buck on the other side of the ball is trying to put a skin on his wall.

I don't care if it is an unspoken part of the game that everyone turns a blind eye to, wrong is wrong.  There should still be a place for honor and sportsmanship in the game even if the stakes for winning and losing have risen to levels that only God can comprehend.  Hit hard, yes. But hit clean.

I know my parents rolled their eyes at my grandparents when they said "the world is going to hell." I know I rolled my eyes at my parents when they said "the world is going to hell."  I also know my kids will one day roll their eyes at me when I say "the world is going to hell."  But you know what, I am going to say it anyway. You know why?  Because THE WORLD IS GOING TO HELL!  When we laugh off the idea of one man trying to end another mans career for the sake of an "atta boy" and say "that's football" or "boys will be boys" then I am sorry but  I don't have a lot of hope for the future.

How much will we tolerate taking violence out of the game? I don't know.  We seem to throw a fit everytime the NFL makes a rule that portends to protect any given player be it a quarterback or a kick returner. I know most fans love their big hits but I don't believe the popularity of the league would be any less by making sure that those who are doing the hitting are doing it the right way, and for the right reasons.