Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Over the years we've lived near the ocean, and we were blessed to have a friend who was a veteran sailor. He'd been sailing the East Coast since he was a boy. And he was generous enough to allow us to go sailing with him sometimes and to watch a master at work. I tried to apply for "first mate," but he always said, "Don't call us, we'll call you." Which he never did. But I was a grateful, and I was a curious passenger. He told me some great stories of sailing adventures. He showed us how to do some of what he did, and he related times that he had seen one sailboat after another fall over as they were unprepared for a shift in the wind. You don't have to be a seasoned seaman to understand a fundamental law of a successful voyage: It's the set of the sail, not the force of the gale, that determines the way you go.

Monday, August 29, 2005

When you're little, your parents seem immortal. They're not. Sooner or later, most of us get the kind of call I got not long ago - a parent is gone. In my case, the hospital called to say my Mom had been admitted due to a medical emergency, but her body gave out and she was gone. No matter what the circumstances, the death of someone you love is always a shock. When you're the only living child and your other parent is already gone, there can be a numbing list of arrangements that you suddenly have to make. Thankfully, that wasn't the case with my Mom. Mercifully, funeral arrangements had been made and paid for years ago.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Senior year in college - somehow our son had maneuvered himself into a coveted on-campus house for his senior lodging. About a dozen guys set up their own little universe there (not necessarily an orderly universe, of course). He told me that one day he and several other guys were talking about a student leader who was a friend of theirs. We'll call him Marty. And in the "talk, then think" atmosphere of college guys in a room, our son was reviewing some of the dumb things (that was his opinion) Marty had done in his leadership choices. As he was finishing this little barbecue, someone drifted into the room from the kitchen - the room right next door. It was, of course, Marty with his cup of coffee in his hand. He'd been right next door making himself some coffee - no doubt listening to this critical review of his leadership. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Our son felt about an inch tall when he realized who he had been hurting.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

If you're from Texas, you know that Alamo is more than just a rental car or pie with ice cream on it. The Alamo is that old Spanish mission in the heart of downtown San Antonio where 189 brave freedom fighters took their stand against the army of Mexico in the battle for Texas independence. I visited the Alamo recently, and once again I was moved by the sacrifice of those men who gave their lives for the cause of freedom, but only after inflicting some pretty heavy losses on the enemy army and inspiring the ultimate victory with the Texas battle cry, "Remember the Alamo!" Colonel William Travis was in command of the garrison as his valiant band stood against those overwhelming odds. I was especially moved as I read the letter that Colonel Travis wrote addressed to "the people of Texas and all Americans." In fact, I was so moved that I read part of it to the 5,000 young people I spoke to that night. He said, "The enemy has demanded a surrender. Otherwise, the garrison are to be put to the sword if the fort is taken. I have answered the demand with a cannon shot, and our flag still waves proudly from the walls. I shall never surrender or retreat." That's more than history. It's a battle cry for you and me.

Monday, August 22, 2005

"Family secrets" - that was the bold headline in Newsweek. The story was inspired by what happened in the life of Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, who as she was being considered for that position, learned a secret her family had kept for decades. She thought her grandparents had been Czechoslovakian Catholics who died peaceful deaths. They were in fact Jews who'd been murdered in a Nazi concentration camp. But Newsweek was using that incident to point out how many families have secrets in their closets, from hidden adoptions to hushed-up romances, sometimes with painful consequences. Like Deborah Blanchard for example, she was a student at a music conservatory when she married an African-American man. She's white and she had two sons before that marriage ended in divorce.

When Deborah moved back to her parents' white neighborhood, her sons were not accepted there, so she decided they'd be better off living with an African American family. She put them up for adoption and tried to resume her life. But she was tormented by that decision. In fact, she lost her trained lyric-soprano voice. She said, "I was never able to sing after that." When she remarried, she kept her past a secret for ten years. When she finally confessed it to her husband, he responded compassionately, and they went on a search for her sons and there's a happy ending. In Newsweek's words, "The family was reunited, the secrets were told, and almost miraculously, her singing voice came back."

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Fettuccini Alfredo! It's that great Italian dish that has buttered noodles served in a rich, creamy cheese sauce. Unfortunately, one news magazine in an article on nutrition and our health called it a "heart attack on a plate." That may be a bit of an overstatement, but the fact is that a lot of foods do contribute to the slow shutdown of the valves that happen to carry the blood and oxygen into your heart. I love what one commercial calls it -- blood sludge. Medical people refer to the hardening of the arteries -- the process in which foods that are high in cholesterol and fat start building up hard deposits in your arteries. If this hardening in your heart is allowed to continue long enough, it is not a laughing matter. It really can threaten your life.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

No matter how big you expect the Grand Canyon to be, it's bigger. And when our family has had the privilege to visit there, we've all been impressed with this awesome, divine masterpiece. One big problem there though has been our boys, because they think they're part mountain goat. Of course, mountain goats cannot read the signs that tell you to stay behind the fences. Apparently, our boys can't read them either. They always had this irresistible urge to venture out as far as possible on those rocks that overlook the canyon. Of course, one false step, and it's all over -- actually, you're all over. All our lectures about going too far for safety's sake made a lot more sense the morning after we had stopped at one particular overlook. The morning paper reported that on the same afternoon we had been there, two young men went to that same overlook and one never came back. He ended up dead at the bottom of the canyon. The reason? He got too close to the edge.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Most people go to the mall to shop, which usually leaves them in worse shape financially. But a few people go to the mall to get in shape physically. Every once in a while you'll see them walking at a steady clip, getting their mile or their miles for the day. One of those mall walkers made the national news recently. He was power walking -- which means, don't get in his way, he's coming fast. He must have looked away for a moment, because he walked full speed into a metal pole in the middle of the mall. Now why would a collision with a pole be news? This man has not had any sight in his left eye for years. Suddenly, after running into that pole, he noticed light in that eye. That collision was one of the best things that ever happened to this man in his life. It helped him see!

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Onions taste great on your hamburger. And they keep tasting long after the burger is a memory. Garlic tastes great on your pizza. But it will be there for you for the rest of the night. In fact, the onions and garlic will be there, not only for you, but for anybody who gets close to you - which won't be very many. Many teenagers have discovered the interesting aftermath of a scrumptious hot fudge sundae or a chocolate bar - acne appearing tomorrow morning on center face. The chocolate was great - briefly. The acne is ugly - not briefly. And what about that ancient wisdom "a moment on the lips, forever on the hips." Those super-size fries or that creamy milk shake will taste wonderful - briefly. And possibly enlarge your body for months or years to come! Here is Science for the Simple, just in case you haven't figured this out already: What you eat affects you later.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

For those of us who have traveled many summers with our Native American outreach team, it will always be remembered as the Night of the Bat. I was with a team of about 35 young Native Americans on a reservation in the Northwest. Most of us were staying in tents or teepees, and a few girls were sleeping in the dining hall. A few of us were in that hall wrapping up for the night, and suddenly a bat somehow got in the room and began doing aerial laps around the room. The reactions were priceless. The girls crawled into their sleeping bags, they covered up, and they screamed like "wolf man" was on the loose. There, huddled in one corner, was this mound of moving, screaming sleeping bags. And the rest of the camp was waking up fast. Everyone was running toward the dining hall to see what awful terror had invaded.

Meanwhile, the bat continued to dart and fly and dive around that room. Some of the guys tried to intercept the bat by throwing bath towels in the air. Needless to say, that was totally ineffective. One team leader was wildly swinging a mop handle in the air. It’s great exercise, but the bat soared on, continuing to terrorize the girls in the room. Except for my wife - Ozark Mountain Woman! She watched that bat make a couple of circuits around the room, she raised a broom above her head, and she took one mighty swing - bam! Direct hit! The dazed bat was taken outside in one of those useless bath towels. And the next morning, one of our Native leaders conducted a brief ceremony to honor my wife with an Indian name - Kills With One Swing.