Rest Day Read (SR-31)
Blame It on Mr. Rogers: Why Young Adults Feel So Entitled
by Jeffrey Zaslow, The Wall Street Journal
“Fred Rogers, the late TV icon, told several generations of children that they were “special” just for being whoever they were. He meant well, and he was a sterling role model in many ways. But what often got lost in his self-esteem-building patter was the idea that being special comes form working hard and having high expectations for yourself….”
…The world owes you nothing. You have to work and compete. If you want to be special, you’ll have to prove it.”
I don’t know if you have to blame it ALL on Mr. Rogers, maybe just a little bit. But you have to blame this entitlement attitude on the ” ‘special’ just for being whoever they were” approach our society seems to have adopted. If you work with youngsters, especially young athletes, you have seen an explosion in the prevalence of this attitude. It is a struggle and a fight to convince kids they will reap greater enjoyment, confidence and self-esteem by working hard toward obtaining the goals they set for themselves. Mom and Dad cannot do the work for you. They can complain and moan and groan on your behalf to make things easier for you, but it doesn’t do you a dang bit of good in the long run. There is no way around it, hard work is the magic.
Category Archives: Writes
Blame it on Mr. Rogers?
We hold these truths to be self-evident…
Rest Day Read (SR-29)
The Declaration of Independence (Preamble) by John Adams
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. That whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. ”
Goosebumps. Yes, goosebumps. I get them every time I read these words. These words ring true across the chasm of time and space. Beautiful, powerful words. Words we, as Americans, have responsibility to live by and live up to. Unrest and unease in our nation, dissatisfaction and frustration at an all time high. Corruption, influence peddling, a ever bloated, ineffectual federal government, fueled by paranoia and distrust. It appears we have drifted from the course so eloquently laid out and fought for by the Founding Fathers.
Is it time for a revolution? I don’t know. I really don’t think the taking up of arms against our government will solve any problems. But you know, there is a solution. And that solution is an inalienable right passed down to each of us through the centuries by the architects of the Great American Democracy; the right to vote. Too simple? I think not. Right now we are a federal governing body whose inability to tackle and solve the biggest problems in our country is costing us and our future citizenry dearly.
And why have we become only right and only left in our government?
I heard a political scientist who researches these issues theorize that our government has become so polar because we have a less than 30% of the registered voters in this country actually exercising their right to vote. He went on to explain that most of these 30% are polar right or left and are angry enough or issue driven enough to actually get out and vote, so their polarizing candidate become the ones elected. His suggestion for real change in this country and to establish real order is to motivate the masses to vote. Motivate the masses, thus electing more middle of the road candidates, who agendas are more in line with the voting populace and provide a real stabilizing force for our nation.
I often wonder what the Founding Fathers would think if they came back to USA 2010. Would they consider their project a failure? Would they feel let down and abandoned? Did they design gridlock intentionally to make sure no huge mistakes or power abuses occur by Congress?
Thomas, John, George? Anyone? Anyone? I need your help. I just don’t know…
The Pied Piper of Hameln
Rest Day Read (SR-28)
The Pied Piper of Hameln versions collected by D.L. Ashliman
“In the year 1284 after the birth of Christ
From Hameln were led away
One hundred thirty children, born at this place
Led away by a piper into a mountain. “
We all know the fairy tale of the Pied Piper, don’t we? I thought I did, that is for sure. But then I ran across this excellent collection of folklore put together by Professor D.L. Ashliman. If you have time this holiday weekend, sit down and look through the collection. From Robert Browning’s old English poem to short versions from around the globe. Very entertaining stuff.
But, two things come to mind now, as an adult, when I go back to the Pied Piper tale.
1. You can’t trust politicians at their word for as far as you can throw them. Never, never ever.
2. Probably something that never really poked its way into your reality as a young reader of fairy tales, many (okay, most) of these old cautionary fairy tales are seriously sinister and dark. Kids being kidnapped and thrown in an oven by a witch. Sweet Granny disemboweled by a wolf whose sole purpose is to kill a small girl dressed in red. And how about this one; Hate your step daughter because a mirror says she is more beautiful than you? Why not just hire a woodsman to chop out her heart with an axe. Huh? Rumpelstiltskin. Man, I ain’t even going there.
Finally, the quoted passage above is reportedly taken from the wall of the Hameln, Germany town hall, according to a Jacob and Wilhem Grimm version of the story. I know it is probably not the easiest thing to chisel a passage like this into a wall, but can it be any less emotionally invested? Talk about concise, journalistic style…just the facts, mam.
Forever Young
Rest Day Read (SR-27)
Forever Young lyrics by Bob Dylan
May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.
Bob Dylan’s 69th birthday. Yes, it’s true. Almost 70 and still on tour, currently in Europe. Forever Young is a great song. (Pepsi used it in a commercial, so then it must be great…right?). I have a Bob Dylan story, well kind of a Bob Dylan story. He was actually there when this happened, so that counts in my book. Back in the summer of 1985/1986 (I can’t really remember for sure without using Google because I am also getting up there in years), I worked “crowd control”, a.k.a security, at Sandstone Amphitheater in KCK.
One of my favorite shows ever was Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers opening up and playing back-up behind the headliner, Bob Dylan. It was as good as you could imagine. At Sandstone there was a section of ~3000 reserved seats right off the stage, which was set at the bottom of a big grassy hill. There was a fence around the reserved area, then the general admission folks, all 10,000+ of them, would sit on the grass hill. It was beautiful. But the GA people on the hill could not, I repeat, could not get past the fence and “crowd control” into the reserved area. Every show had GA people hanging out at the gates of the fence always trying to get past to the shrine of the stage. I had been cursed, spit on, offered bribes and threatened for not allowing GA folks to cross the line. Guess where I “got” to work for the Bob Dylan show…
So, I am working, getting the usual amount of caca from the crowd and the Bob Dylan’s set starts. Things quiet down a bit, but I notice this character standing right at the GA side of the gate who had sifted his way through the throng. He was skin and bones, scraggly, long, gray hair, dressed in ragged jeans and sleeveless white T-shirt. He was old, looked maybe sixty, but the obvious roughness to his life could have easily added 20 years to that face. I wondered how he afforded the ticket to get in, but that was and still is a great mystery. I sauntered over to where he was watching the show, the stage lights illuminated the joy on his face, transfixed on the man onstage.
Between songs, I say, “Like Dylan?”
“Oh, yeah, man.”
“Seen him before, then?” I asked, figuring he had probably seen Dylan dozens of times.
“Never. Only time. Always wanted to, but…you know, never had.”
I sat there a minute. Here we had 3000 reserved seat people, 2990 of them probably really don’t give a mouse’s behind about Bob Dylan. They got free tickets or just wanted to check it out or needed something to do that night. Then you got this one guy, who probably sold a kidney or something to get this one moment added to his life.
“Hey, mister. When I count three, climb through the fence here and calmly walk to that guy in the blue shirt down at front stage.”
“Wha…”
“One, two” I moved right in front of him to cover his escape. He realizes what I told him and smiles. “three!” The little guy shoots through the fence and almost skips on air down to the front stage. I signal to the guy working front stage and he allows the old guy to stand there and watch the show.
He looked happy and content the last time I saw him down by the stage. Well worth all the crap I then received from the other yahoos standing at the gate trying to jump to the promised land. Perfect. Forever Young.
Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel
Rest Day Read (SR-25)
Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel
Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;
and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host –
by the Divine Power of God –
cast into hell, satan and all the evil spirits,
who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls.
Amen
When you are a stocky, quiet, lineman type of kid in a fairly large Catholic family with wonderful parents who have picture plaques on the wall for each of the namesake saints of their children, and your name-sake saint is St. Michael and you read this prayer as a youngster and see the picture of St. Michael spearing the serpent into hell, it does truly have a profound effect on one’s approach and outlook on life. Life is a battle, a constant struggle to do the right thing in God’s eyes. There is always good and there is always evil. Each of us must fight the battles with the shining spiritual example of St. Michael to lead us.
Pope Leo XIII wrote the prayer in 1884, after seeing a vision of Satan choosing the 20th century as his century to attempt a corruption of the church. There are influences of St. Michael in many heroic figures of modern film, literature and comic books. Good vs. evil. One chooses to fight or one chooses to give in. Think about it.
The Creative Process in Action: Moby on NPR
Rest Day Read (SR-24)
The Creative Process
Moby: One Song, Two Days, Three Versions
from NPR’s Project Song by Bob Boilen
“I kicked off the songwriting process by showing them a series of photographs and words…Moby and Scarr are both drawn to an image of a man in the woods wearing a trenchcoat. There is a brown suitcase on the earthen floor beside him, and his head looks like a glowing storm cloud.
Next, I gave them a series of words to chose from. Moby picks the word “flight”. Scarr chooses “Sunday”, which Moby calls “the most depressing day of the week”.
Not long after, Moby puts the card with the word “Sunday” printed on it, along with the photograph, on a nearby chair. He picks up the bass guitar and immediately starts playing a riff in the key of E. Turns out, this hastily played baseline would become the bedrock for their new song.
Just six hours later, the first of three versions of “Gone to Sleep” was recorded.”
The creative process has always intrigued me. Creativity is vital to excellence. Creativity separates, it is the cream which rises to the top. I have always been interested in what makes greatness, in particular, Malcolm Gladwells writings on the subject. The great trainers I follow, Crossfit, Gym Jones, Dan John, Mike Rutherford, Coach Rod Cole, CrossFit Kids, Marty Gallagher, Mark Rippetoe and Dr. Lon Kilgore, just to name a few, are all very creative in their expertise and approach to their craft. The great football coaches I idolized, Hank Stram, Vince Lombardi, Mike Ditka, Bill Belchick, Mary Schottenheimer, Urban Meyer, Bill Snyder all use their creativity to innovate and dominate the sport. The beauty of what they all do is truly an art form.
This article, audio file and video of Moby creating a song from a photo and word on the NPR program Project Song shows the creative process at its best. Moby is completely in the zone, absolutely, completely focused on his purpose, as he and partner Kelli Scarr attack the creation of the piece. It is pretty cool stuff. Listen, watch, learn and enjoy.
Makes one wonder just what exactly it is in the small percentage of differences in the genetic code between Homo sapiens, that allows for such variety and creativity in our species.
The Pollen Post No. 6: Pollen Victorious
I Surrender!
Pollen, I concede to your millions of years of evolutionary supremacy. In Paul’s words, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith.” But now I bow in surrender to you. I wave the white flag. It is over, the AC is turned on. You win.
Filed under Rants, Reads, Uncategorized, Writes
Summer Conditioning: Fail Cycle
Rest Day Read (SR-22)
Failure by Mark Twight of Gym Jones
“The gifted athlete who sails from one success to the next with little effort or training knows nothing of himself or how he might behave when truly pressured.”
Whenever I think I know what it is all about, whenever I think I have reached an acceptable, comfortable level and the good I am doing is good enough, I always seem to find a way back to Mark Twight’s essays on the Gym Jones web site. He always slaps me back into reality, back into challenging myself and pushing forward. Gym Jones always reminds me just how behind the game I am.
Back when I was training athletes, I lived by the philosophy of the Fail Cycle. I give you a task, first you would cuss me out and complain, then you would try and fail, beaten and broken. Then you would go home and it would eat at you all night that you failed. Then you would come back and work your ass off until you complete the task. Then a new, more difficult task would be handed out and the cycle starts again.
I admit, I used to worry about some of the stuff I would ask the athletes to do. But I also knew that we weren’t big, fast, or terribly athletically gifted as a group, so we had to prepare with maximum effort mentally and physically to turn our bodies into weapons. Their jelly-legged, exhausted, dead-ass tired bodies would drag themselves off the floor or dusty ground, give me that “you SOB” glare then go home. But the next day, they would come back fresh and ready to go.
It may sound weird to most, but seeing kids fight through those demons and push their mental and physical barriers, seeing them get up after being beat down and move forward a better man, is the one thing I miss the most about not coaching anymore. I do miss Friday nights, but I REALLY miss summer mornings at 6:30 AM.
No wonder the mothers worried so much…
THE COACH HAYS 