A New Day, A New Adventure, Right?

Today, when I left home, my wife told me to try to lighten up a little. Things have been kind of dark lately. She is, often, the best gauge of my mental condition. Driving to work I thought about what she said, and knew she was right. Life has been too morbid lately. Headlines have consumed substance, reality has been replaced by superficial concerns, and it has really put a zap on my spirit. With that in mind I was going to write a list of my five favorite apps.

After a lot of thought it was impossible to narrow it down to five. I do love apps, little bitty gifts from the gods of technology. And you know something, I can never scroll past a post or article about apps. If it has the headline "15 great free apps," or anything similar I am hooked. Normally I end up getting one or two of them, and they aren't always so great. But, If you want to know which app is best for any particular task just send me a question at TweetTweetJohn@yahoo.com and I will be glad to give you my opinion, even if I have to make it up.*

I decided to go with sports., Unfortunately, right now the whole world is obsessed with Super Bowl commercials, and long ago I made the decision to boycott the commercials. It might give me something to discuss with my coworkers. Monday, I was at the dentist getting some small procedure done, really small, it didn't even require Novocaine, and in the middle there was a feature on the national morning news show previewing the super bowl commercials. My dentist, and his assistant had to stop, despite having all four hands and several sharp, sadistic, pointed things in my mouth, and watch, in rapt attention. It has become obscenely spiritual for the world. Despite all of our differences everyone can agree the Doritos commercial was fantastic. I don't even care who wins the football game, though oddly enough I do care who loses. Sports was out.

And it is too early for the Life Explained Lawn Care and Gardening Extravaganza, and too late for the 100 Best Christmas Gifts to Give to a Life Explained Staff Writer. But, Valentines Day is coming, and by an odd coincidence, I have actually been to Valentine, NE. So I decided to go with that.

Last time we were in South Dakota, and we had to go to Nebraska I told my wife, "don't worry, I
know how to get to there," Unfortunately, I did, but not the way we were supposed to go. We ended up 75 miles, or about 75 miles east, of Valentine, in Ainsworth, Of course, from what little I could tell, there is not a lot of difference between Ainsworth and Valentine (they are both lovely, little Nebraska towns) except for geographical placement. And the only real tragedy was we were heading for Valentine, and points south. So, my wife sighed, turned west and rolled her eyes up in her head so far it looked painful, and asked what we should do for lunch. She has become accustomed to my navigational adventures.

To my wife; Happy Valentines Day! Where do you want to go for dinner, I will get directions.



* Not really, I will probably at least look into it, and read something about great apps for whatever you asked about, before I make something up.

And Now For Some Good News.

My wife works in a high school. One of the students was a gifted basketball player. A mountainous, hulking man of a student, strong, masculine, just plain big. According to my wife he was always very polite, and respectful.

Another student in the school is a special needs student. His handicap is profound, twisting his arms and legs into odd angles and strange movements. He stutters, and has trouble coordinating his movements. He loves basketball, he wants nothing more than to be able to play. And he was doomed, by cruel, terrible fate to be disappointed in so simple an ambition. He watched basketball, he talked about basketball, and according to rumors his bedroom walls are adorned with posters of NBA players.

In one of the oddest twists of fate imaginable, a turn of events almost too hokey for Disney, a student was being mean to the handicapped student (why does that happen, and it always happens that way, doesn’t it? this poor child doesn’t  have enough problems without adding a heartless bastard to the debit column) and the basketball player came over and picked up the bully, held him up against the wall and said “leave him alone, he is my friend.” Oddly enough, he was.

Now the basketball star is off to college, playing at high level at a school where playing at a high level is expected, demanded. He still stays in contact with his “friend.” Even helping him get tickets to a game. A gentle giant, a man who gives back. A true star in a world full of ESPN manufactured personalities.

There is still something in this story that brings a tear to my eye. In a world gone mad with self aggrandizement here is a young man who took the time to give to someone who needed. It is easy to find stories about people who don’t give a damn about anybody. Easy to find examples of people willing to step on someone small and meek just so they can reach the good stuff on the top shelf. It is easy to think nobody cares about anything, society is a waste, humanity not so humane.

Very few people at the school know this story, it was not for publicity. My wife knows because she cares, she talks to all kids and they tell her things, sometimes heartbreaking, terrible things. But once in a while she will find a true gem. “Where you find the darkest avenue, there you’ll find the brightest jewel.”* And knowing my predilection for darkness she shares them with me. And the handicapped student shared this story with her, excitedly. Here was a basketball player, a star player, who was his friend.

He did not do this for any acknowledgement, just because it was the right thing to do, and still do, he is still doing it. I admit that college athletics is more about athletics and the obscene profits it generates, than anything to do with the positive impact of college, or the careful molding  and nurturing of young people, but sometimes, if you look hard enough you can find something bright and wonderful.

*Richard Thompson, Cooksferry Queen

Sports, A Gilded Cage, Or A Damp Dungeon.

Hope is a dish best served cold, with a side of cheese, and a few crackers, occasionally you should toss in some prosciutto, and a healthy dose of anticipation.  Of course, it also goes well with a few cold beers, some chips, a little salsa, maybe some melted cheese and a dash of delusional dreaming.  You might as well crack open a couple of soft drinks, and throw in some pizza, because the season is really heating up, or hasn't started yet, or is just finishing, and hope is moving in for a while.

 Hope is always present when watching sports, it hangs around, feeding you dreams of glory, (for the participants, the athletes who have trained, and worked, and studied, and given so much) dreams of success beyond measure. For you it provides the opportunity to marvel at someones else's talent and accomplishments.

And, if a team is so talented, and lucky you can slap high fives until your wrist is sprained and scream in joy so often your vocal cords have nodules, and you are permanently hoarse, then you will have the right to brag about how you have rooted for a team that won some sort of prestigious honor.  Ah, hope you are a true friend.

But, where goes hope, so goes despair. Despair is a dish best served cold, with a few belts of Kentucky Bourbon, or Mexican Tequila, nothing sweet, or nutritious, tepid, flat beer, and lukewarm coffee, maybe a sandwich of stale bread and old, slightly rancid bologna.  And you are never more than a fumbled ball, errant pass, foolish, hurried shot, or momentary lapse on defense from the pits of desperation.  Sadness, and indifference, or anger, and disbelief, these are the companions of loss, these are hand maidens of defeat.

Fortunately, dawn is waiting, sort of, maybe the next game, maybe a new season, possibly the second half.  Whatever it is, there is hope, blossoming right in front of you, a fresh chance, that guy could really turn this thing around, there is hope, you can almost smell victory.  But, you can also feel the cold, uncomfortable icy sting of defeat, waiting, just out of sight, but always there.

In the beautifully haunting, tender, yet cruel words of Ray Davies;

"For those who are successful,
Be always on your guard,
Success walks hand in hand with failure,
Along Hollywood Boulevard."

Humanity is an odd bunch.  We throw so much of ourselves into things over which we have no control, throwing time, money, and affection at strangers we can never hope to meet.  We feel such joy, and sadness over things that are beyond our control.  We have 24 hour, 7 days a week coverage of teams that only play once a week, and we still can't get enough.  We have fantasy teams, coverage of recruiting, bracketologists, draft experts, websites, talk radio, non stop, never ending sports, and it is still not enough.

All of which leads me to one conclusion, I can't wait until the game tomorrow.  And basketball season is almost here.  It will be awesome, sometimes.

Politics the American Way

Some people despise political ads, finding them too vicious, too mean, and too degrading. Politics is a dirty business, and you have to be tough to survive. At the same time, reality based television is still popular, sporting events draw large crowds, and shows using voting audiences to decide the results of competitions still have large followings of devoted fans. As an organization with a dedicated, vested interest in seeing the right people in office it is our civic duty, here at Life Explained, to devise a plan using the best of all of these, (am mash-up if you will, or a hash-up for those of you in the culinary arts) into a failsafe, foolproof system that will guarantee the continued operation of the United States© and the American Dream™.

Bil, our longtime friend, and valued coworker, participated in chess boxing for a time (he retired undefeated, by the way, having played a few games of "Chess with Friends" against him, we can say he must be a very good boxer). This is a unique blend of the mental and physical arts, wherein the competitors play a game of chess between rounds of a boxing match. One of the ways to win is checkmate, of course, but it is unclear if the boxing portion has any effect on the outcome, other than decreasing the ability of your opponent to formulate and execute a winning strategy through repeated blows to the head. It is, probably, safe to say a knockout would count as a win, but we could not ask Bil if there were any other scoring during the boxing, he was on vacation for the week. So, for five days he was not such a valued coworker after all. We will get some answers to these pressing questions on Monday.

Political debates have become, more or less, symbolic of the problems that face our democracy today. They do not really express anything, only reinforcing the beliefs of the faithful. Without fail, both candidates will walk away claiming victory, and the parties will dogmatically drive home the points they feel best represent their nominees stunning, crushing success. Any undecided voter will quickly lose sight of the things they felt were important, and be buried under the claims of the television analysts. It is safe to say that most of the people watching already know how they are going to vote, and the rest are tired of the wasted breath, and empty rhetoric.

But, we here at Life Explained have a plan to change that! "The Life Explained Boxing Debate©" brought to you by (we are still looking for corporate sponsors, here is your chance to hit it big). Candidates will debate the important issues of the day, and at the bell, they will box for two minutes. People will log on and vote for who they think is doing the best job.

 Of course, nobody wants to elect a candidate just on his ability to pummel an opponent without mercy, at the same time the country needs a father, a man who can carry his own stuff, a salt of the Earth type. A guy who has your back when things get tough. That is why people can vote on both the debate, and boxing components.

There will still be a moderator, but there will also be an announcer, and a commentator, and a ring girl, corner men, and fight doctors, and ring side seats filled with wealthy people dressed in clothing that adequately describes their worth. Girls in skimpy costumes parading around the ring between rounds. Concession revenues, and scalpers selling tickets outside the doors, gambling, and all of those great American symbols of freedom, and success. People will be excited to vote again.

America will be saved, the economy will be boosted, and we might start electing presidents every year.

 
We, here at Life Explained would like to add the following disclaimer, "we have nothing against girls, and sincerely believe that many girls can punch with enough force to run for political office, at any level. So please don't email your indignation, and please don't punch us. It was just a joke."

 

 

Football Season, A Love / Hate Relationship.

Saturday is the first day of the college football season. There is a certain feeling that follows quickly on the heels of the opening day kickoff.  After seeing a team play it can become difficult to entertain illusions of invincibility.  Before the first game teams are filled with Supermen, supreme beings, monstrous, murderous, animals, fast, flexible and beastly, unfeeling, and incapable of anything resembling compassion or empathy.

After the first game there may be some misgivings, it might seem like they are a little too kind, maybe a little too generous.  On a few plays they really made that team look good.  Sure, everybody should feel proud about their performance, but, charity begins at home, right.

Fortunately, it is just the first week and nobody really plays anybody good.  Except, of course, for those teams that play opponents with a significant advantage in size, speed and budget (funny how those three things travel in a pack).  How the small schools of the world should be pitied, traveling long distances for a paycheck and a painful loss.  But, the teams with the most fans normally win on the first weekend.  The University of Idaho football team probably has very good fans, fans who represent the university admirably on those long, cross country trips to Gainesville, but try to find a Vandal shirt in your local sporting good store (it is such a cool name, I would have one if they were easy to find).

But, until that first weekend all is well with the world, and after the first weekend things are not a lot worse.   No matter what happens though, it is the place of a fan to remember past glories as the most glorious, and look at the future as a promised land, filled with championships, trophies, and unbelievable success.

Such is the life of a fan.  Sports teams are a device used to bring esteem, and self worth.  When the prowess and ability of others is a source of fulfillment and they fall a little short it is only natural to feel bitter and resentful, screaming at the television, and cursing so loudly and profanely that your dog blushes, a little.

But, there is always next year.

Now is the spring time of our discontent.

Made glorious summer by this sun of diamonds.  Sorry, Shakespeare was always distant, and barely accessible to my meager intellect.  To clarify, now basketball season is over, and we are in the sports void of summer.  There are plenty of people who love baseball, soccer, and golf, and I drink to their health, but I am not one of them.  I am sure they will enjoy all of the games, tournaments, and Viagra and testosterone commercials.  Come on, enough is probably too much, I am not a prude, but televised sports becomes a non-stop parade of innuendo and suggestion.  "Viagra, the official medicine of television."

To recap the season, and tournament, early in the season my favorite teams lost some games, and I was sad, then they won some games and I was happy.  Then the tournament came, and my team (the Cornhuskers) lost in the first round, so I went to my backup team (the Louisville Cardinals) and they lost in the regional quarterfinals.  Quickly, I chose a team to root for (Iowa State), and they lost.  I jumped on the Dayton Flyer bandwagon right before it crashed, and burned, and left me in the lurch.  Go Badgers, Wisconsin was an easy choice, they are red and white, and I have a lot of red shirts, so here we go, all the way to the promise land.  But, they got beat.

Since, I am a long time Louisville fan I could not root for Kentucky, it is anathema to us Cardinals, so I chose U Conn (even though they don't wear red), and they won, and we celebrated, and it was great.  What a great season, my team (sort of) won it all.

I knew they could do it!

And with that, we end this years edition of Basketball Explained, and we move onto mowing and raking and gardening and working long hours for free explained.

Sports, it is not just a game, maybe.

I am a college sports fan, I don't care much for pro sports, but college football and basketball are great distractions for me.   Like any fan, I have my favorite team, and watch, and root enthusiastically for, them whenever I can.   But, there are others I root for, and want to win.  I like the games, and the competition, and the sport.  There are few games, in either sport, no matter who is playing that I can't watch, and enjoy.

College football is winding down and my favorite team is going to a bowl game (a reward for a winning season), but not the conference championship, which is unfortunate, but not tragic.  They lost too many games to qualify for that opportunity, which is ok, they had a lot of injuries, and at times did not play as well as fans might have hoped.  All in all, though, it was a great season, with many exciting moments, and a few losses, but life is filled with ups and downs, and so are games.

Recently, someone asked if I felt conditions in the world of college football had changed so drastically that my favorite team was destined to be a middle of the pack competitor, and would never return to the horror of lofty expectations that haunt so many teams.  It wasn't phrased exactly that way, but, you get the drift.

That is a very difficult question, with many possible answers, but the best I could muster, was "I haven't really thought about it that much.  I watch the game, root for my team, and when they lose I feel sad, for a while, and when they win I am happy, for a while, but either way I am still a fan, and soon move on to other things."  This might be ADD, or a deluded sense of self importance, or maybe just a healthy dose of indifference, who knows?   But, when pressed for an answer after a loss, I always quote the wisdom of Bill Russell, "it wasn't because they weren't trying."

It was a good season for my favorite team, maybe not great, but good, and as is often the case after a good season, there was a lot of talk about firing the coach.  The athletic director said he was not firing the coach, and was looking forward to his continued leadership.  This was a good sign.

There is so much emphasis on winning, on championships, on perfect seasons it really drags a lot of fun out of the games.  And with every misstep during a season fans, and sports show hosts on radio and television cry in anguish, screaming for blood, or at least retribution in the form of a very public dismissal.  Coaches and teams are held hostage to demanding, unrealistic standards.  Sometimes, as a casual fan, the venom gets a little tiring, but as Arnold Bennet said, "pessimism, when you get used to it, is just as agreeable as optimism."

It is always enlightening to talk with fans after a game, win or lose, they can dissect a game and critique every flaw, each coaching mishap, no matter how well planned or thought out, is fodder for public, acidic discussion.  He should have called a screen pass, he should have run up the middle, they shouldn't have blitzed in that situation, why didn't they blitz, For the Love of God, How Could They Be So Stupid???  And they players fare no better, these young men, who have dedicated such a disproportionate amount of their life to becoming skilled enough to participate at this level are routinely roasted for drops, misses and mistakes.  And this is by fans.

So, I salute the University of Nebraska and the Athletic Director for standing by a winning coach, if that sounds like an odd statement you are obviously not a fan.  And congratulations to Coach Pelini on his continued employment, I am happy that our are going to a bowl game, it wasn't that long ago we stayed home.  And congratulations to all fans everywhere who root for teams through wins and losses.  And mostly I salute the players who leave so much on the field every week, it has been great fun, and I am awed by your talent.

A Saturday Decision.

The weekend is over, and as much as I don't want to confess to this little crime, I am a big college football fan.  And my team won on Saturday.  Won in thrilling fashion, too.  Down by three, with less than two minutes left they got the ball at their own 18 yard line, and with 4 seconds left threw a huge prayer of pass into the end zone to score the winning touchdown.  It was amazing!  And I was delighted by their good fortune.

Now, if they somehow manage to win the rest of their games they will win a conference championship for the first time in many years.  And, I have started to let hope creep back into my thinking.

I should know better, because twice this year they have managed to fall completely apart and lose games leaving me sad and mourning, and a little angry that I have given so much importance to the performance of people I have never met, young men who are about the same age as my son.

Yet, here I am, again, moving the dial from casual indifference to hopeful optimism, and thinking of glory days in the very near future for young men who work so hard, and endure so much criticism and carry so much extra weight because so many people are counting on them to do so much every week.  Their talent is unbelievable, their burden is terrible, and I don't envy them the expectations, it would crush me.

And the risks they face are horrendous.  Football, played at that level is a violent sport filled with unimaginably vicious collisions, and every week someone gets hurt, and with almost every injury fans watching on television get to hear some version of the same mindless drivel.

"Well, Bob, that is could be huge, they can not afford to lose him."  Yep, here is some young man, writhing in agony, potentially facing long hours of surgery, and months of intense, often painful rehabilitation, and I am worried about how the team is going to deal with this tragedy, poor team, anyway.  Who does he think he is getting hurt like that?!!?!

But, if the game is lopsided, long since over, and there are players whose names never grace the sports page are in hoping for one, brief moment of glory, and to hear their number called out over the PA system just this once, gets hurt, then the tone is so different.  "What a tragedy, a fine young man, let's all hope for the best."  Of course, that sounds so much better than, "well, Bob, that is not much of a loss for the team,  he could change uniforms and play for the other team, and no one would even notice."

Somehow, sportscasters can make lessen both injuries, turning them into mundane talking points, sometimes I swear they get paid by the word, quantity as a virtue.

So, I have vowed to be a big fan, every week, and when they win I will celebrate their success, and when they lose, I will celebrate their effort, and then I will go back to whatever I was doing and hope nobody got hurt very bad.

Pay to play, or pay for play, you decide.

“College athletes should be paid, so many people make money from their efforts.”  That is the common argument, and it is a good one.  Of course, there is also the investment of time, many of them work year round to hone skills, and discipline their bodies for peak performance.  Plus, they bring so much entertainment and joy to so many.  Turn on your television and watch as the drama unfolds, it is spectacle, anyone can see the interest shown by so many.  There are so many good reasons to pay college athletes it is becoming difficult to remember what the opposition is saying.  But, paying college athletes may stop short of equity.

What about the high school stud who can “carry the rock?”  Doesn’t he deserve a little something, something for his troubles?  How about that outside hitter who flies in, bird of prey like to smash that volleyball into the floor so hard it needs inflated.  And that kid averaging 16 points, 7 rebounds and 2 assists on the basketball team, where is his “fatted calf?”  These student athletes train rigorously, lifting and running, sacrificing time and sweat.  Further, their parents often pay for summer leagues, and personal trainers, all in an effort to gain that little bit of an edge, that one small advantage when it counts most.  Don’t they deserve compensation for their time.

Oh, sure, there are laws governing the allocation of government funds spent on education.  But, there are options.  Who hasn’t met the coach willing to sell a little bit of soul for a decent state tournament run.  There are always several coaches for each team, maybe a pool system.  Perhaps that is too mercenary, maybe the cost needs to cast a wider net.

Ask any high school coach or administrator, booster groups and graduates are an excellent source of renewable wealth.  Booster clubs love to be a part of things, and there is nothing that brings more joy to these hard working, God fearing souls than a winning record and a divisional championship.  Ah, to see the smiles on their philanthropistic faces when the trophy is paraded around the Elks lodge for all to see.

Another option, a particularly egalitarian method, would be to donate a portion of the ticket sales and concession stand earnings among the players.  What makes the concession sales alternative so appealing is the opportunity it gives for self expression.  For example, people could choose who they are supporting with each purchase. 

Customer:  “Give me two slices of pizza for # 11, a large Coke for # 24 and some nachos for #3, please.”

Concession Stand Volunteer:  “That will be $7.50, no $8.50 no $7.75.  Oh damn, has anybody seen the calculator?  Let’s call it an even $10.00.”

Not only would the student athlete benefit think of the potential profit for the school district.  Basketball will serve as our example here.  Think for a moment, it is a close game, the home team trails by two, time is running out on the clock, less than 12 seconds left, Number 4 inbounds the ball to number 32, who dribbles to half court, he runs into a double team and jumps up, passing the ball to number 43 in the corner.  Time is counting down, 2 seconds left, and the defense is running out towards number 43 (Jeff, if you are wondering) who squares up and launches a three point shot to win the game at the buzzer.  Think of all of the people mobbing the concession stand to buy popcorn, candy bars, lukewarm hot dogs, bottled water, anything to pay show their gratitude to Jeff, for his steely nerves and game winning heroics.  It will be like Black Friday, right outside the gym.  There is no need to stop there, though.

The world of amateur athletics is silly with coaches who feel like they are one good season from the glory and riches of the pro league, they so richly deserve.  It would be difficult to swing a blind referee’s white cane without hitting a volunteer dreaming of the big time.  Think of the potential, (and it would be relatively inexpensive at that age, a bargain, really) some kid dribbles the soccer ball through your entire U8 team, and the coach walks, very casually over and offers the kids $3.25 to switch teams for the rest of the game.  Does anybody else smell a dynasty?

Of course, there are going to be those who feel that money is too base, corrupting,  too “dirty.”  Truly, though, the money is really only secondary in importance, the real value is the lesson in dealing with success.  Learning to understand the value of talent, and learning to manage complex financial arrangements is the most important thing to teach children.