Even an Octopus Deserves Some Recognition in 2010

I do it every year around this time. I put together a list of those who have inspired me in some way during the past year and call it something silly like, “Thumbs Up Award for Regular Folks Who Don’t Get Recognized But Probably Should.” Sounds good so I’m going with that for 2010. You won’t see any of television’s Real Housewives on my list this year. The very few times I have wasted a few moments of my life by tuning in, all I could hear were beeps. Maybe they get bonuses based on who can curse the most. Cursing is bad enough, but is particularly unattractive among females. Enough for the negativity. I am an optimist and I’ve had plenty of reasons to smile this year. NOSTRADAMUS OF THE SEA- Paul the Octopus was a stud when it came to picking the winners in last summer’s World Cup soccer matches, correctly predicting the outcome of the last eight matches in a row by lowering himself onto a box with the country’s flag located at the bottom of his tank. Poor Paul didn’t enjoy his fame for long as he left us in October due to “natural causes.” (If only he had picked Team USA to win) CLASS ACT- Major League Baseball umpire Jack Joyce blew the call that would have given Detroit pitcher Armando Gallaraga a perfect game. But Joyce, Gallaraga, and the normally harsh fans of Detroit all handled it with grace and dignity, giving me hope for the game I have loved since my youth. CLASS ACT #2- Also involving baseball but a little closer to home, I witnessed an act of true sportsmanship this past summer at a youth league baseball game. One of the kids was playing with a cast on his arm, forcing him to bunt each time he came up to bat. When he came up with two outs in the last inning, the opposing coach- who could have easily seized the opportunity to win the game at that point- chose instead to intentionally walk the kid so that the game wouldn’t end on a fluke out. He saved the kid embarrassment and chose class over the “win at all cost” mentality. Kudos. MISSION POSSIBLE- Seems like I mention my mission trips every year. Get used to it. The team of college kids I led on a trip to the Dominican Republic made quite an impression on me. But also my friends there in the Dominican remain close to my heart, and are in my thoughts and prayers daily. MISSION SERVE- I also had the opportunity to serve as worship leader for a week of Mission Serve this past summer, where teens serve less fortunate others through short-term construction projects. On the last night, during a song where we were all kind of letting loose together, one boy looked at me and said something I’ll never forget. Jeremy was someone I would probably have never hung out with in school. He was uncoordinated and socially awkward. But he looked up at me during the last verse of the song and said simply, “Coach Rusty, you’re my favorite person.” It was one of the greatest compliments I have ever received and I’ll cherish its sincerity forever. Thanks for a great 2010. Blessings to all.

Hope Springs Eternal This Christmas

A few thoughts, if I may, about Christmases past, present, and future. Christmases past and present have been and are filled with clichés. Folks say, “You ready for Christmas?” and others reply, “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.” And you hear people ask, “Did ya’ll have a big Christmas?” to which the standard reply is, “Yeah, too big.” People complained back then and still worry now that Christ is being taken out of Christmas. And even though we now know X is a Greek symbol representing Christ, it’s still not kosher to put up a sign with “Xmas” written anywhere on it. And you can’t say “gay apparel” anymore as freely as you used to could. The most memorable Christmas decoration I can remember from my youth was a Santa propped on a toilet next to a defunct truck tire with flowers in it, proudly displayed in somebody’s front yard. I made my parents ride by that house over and over again. Christmas past meant that one of my uncles would tell his “Randolph the Brown-nosed reindeer” joke on Christmas Eve. It was something about how Randolph could fly just as fast as Rudolph but couldn’t stop as quick. Us kids always got a kick out of that one. (At least he didn’t do the “pull my finger” trick.) But Christmas Eve also meant a candlelight service at my home church, where a choir member, usually Martel, would sing “Oh Holy Night.” I still visit my home church every Night Before Christmas and eagerly anticipate getting my “Oh Holy Night” fix, which never disappoints me. No Christmas is complete for me unless I’ve seen the Grinch and Charlie Brown specials. The other night, while watching Charlie, my fifteen-year-old said, “Dad, you know the reason I know all the words to this show? Because you make us watch it every year.” Dang straight I do. (Everyone should hear Linus’ oration every year- the part where he tells about the birth of Jesus.) And every year in the past and now in the present, we sing about winter wonderlands and sleigh rides with bells jingling. Yet I’ve never seen white on Christmas Day and I’ve certainly never dashed through the snow on a giant horse-drawn sled headed for Grandma’s house or anywhere else. But we sing it anyway because hope springs eternal. In Christmases past, present, and future- based on my nut allergy- I have been and will remain on the alert for goodies laced with nuts. Beware of fudge, banana bread, fruitcake (Ugh!), cookies, and everything else Christmasey you can think of. Concerning Christmases future, you may be expecting to hear gloom and doom but fear not, I bring you good news. Christmases future will witness an end to shoppers getting trampled with their treasures (more online shopping) and protests over the words people greet each other with during the season will cease. You’ll be able to say “Merry Christmas,” “Happy Hanukah,” or “Happy Holidays” because people will finally realize that a greeting is simply one’s way of expressing peace, love, and joy to the world- as opposed to trying to force a religion on you. And Linus, the Grinch, Randolph, and “Oh Holy Night” will still be around, even when I’m long gone. And Christ will still remain in Christmas. Because hope springs eternal.

Debunking the Global Warming Theory

Pundits argue, fuss, and call each other dirty names when the subject of global warming is introduced. Some say human beings have caused Mother Earth to overheat due to our numerous emissions and atmospheric indiscretions. Others say we are indeed warming up, but humans have minimal influence as it pertains to weather patterns. Still others say it’s just a rebellious phase the universe is going through and she will return to normal once her wild oats are sowed. I am not educated enough on such matters to produce a relevant scientific opinion. But my own observations in recent years have led me to believe we are actually entering an ice age. I have evidence to back up my theory. I went to college in the mountains of North Carolina and played the outdoor sport of baseball at Appalachian State. The coldest game I remember playing occurred in March of 1985 in Boone. On that day it flurried snow and I wore a pair of long johns and one long sleeve undershirt under my uniform. It was chilly but I survived. And now, twenty plus years later I’m coaching that same sport, but I won’t step onto a field before spring break without ten layers of clothing and a portable heater in the dugout. Two years ago, I coached a home game where the temperature was 35 and the wind was howling. The opposing third baseman from Canisius (Buffalo, NY) told me it felt like a heat wave. Last year, good sense evading us, we played a night game in mid-February where the wind chill temperature never made it above freezing. I counted 14 layers of clothing on myself that night as I questioned the sanity of my chosen profession. 43 fans (I counted) braved the cold in the stands and though I admired their loyalty, I felt certain they had misplaced their marbles. I remember looking over at one my assistant coaches at one point and saying, “Whoever made up that junk about global warming should be here tonight.” Further evidence is the torture I have endured in recent years on hunting excursions with my sons. A few years ago, on one particular freezie pop morning, one of my sons and I shared a tree stand and ended up putting away our guns and cuddling with each other to survive. I suspect the deer were humored. So don’t bother producing scientific evidence to convince me that the polar caps are all but melted and the ocean will overtake the North Carolina Mountains within a few years. My body knows different. And now here we are only a few days after Thanksgiving, and the temps are already in the teens at night. Global warming? But alas, there is another factor. This body of mine is twenty-five years older than it was when it was wearing long johns during college baseball games and short sleeves when it snowed. I am forced to consider the possibility that the weather is no colder than it used to be, but rather I’m just a whole lot wimpier now. Either way, I prefer complaining about it being colder. I’m too macho to admit I can’t take it anymore and I’m too delusional to admit I’m not the spring chicken I used to be. And it’s not even winter yet.

No Thanks

In this season of gratitude, I have much to be thankful for. Faith, family, friends, a job, health, church, and a home come to mind. Also I count my freedom and those who protect it among my many blessings. There’s more but I have chosen to take a different angle this week. After much introspection, I have come up with a list of things I am not thankful for. Or better stated, the “thankful I am not” list. ALL THAT JUNK ABOUT TOUCHING- I’m thankful I’m not traveling by air during the holiday season. I consider myself an affectionate guy, but I won’t be getting patted down, body scanned, or molested in any form or fashion at the airport. As appealing as all that may sound to some, I’m happily married, thank you. NO STAR ON THE SIDEWALK- I’m relieved not to be a Hollywood star. Most, not all, of them have skyrocketing divorce rates and plastic surgery bills. And their mug shots when they get in trouble are beyond hilarious. Plus they’ve got that whole paparazzi deal crowding around them all the time. The closest I’ve ever come to that was when I gave out cheese crackers and crayons to some children in the Dominican Republic. DANCING FOOL- I am thankful not to be a finalist on “Dancing with the Stars” despite the fact I produced unforgettable performances at a recent football game (recall column about dancin’ and textin’) and a few weeks later with the father of the bride at a Haitian wedding. I don’t watch the show but it seems to me everybody who gets voted off is 1) embarrassed 2) grouchy and 3) bitter. ROYAL PAIN- I’m extremely thankful that I wasn’t born into royalty. I hear the wedding of the future King of England and his bride will cost their families $40 million. Of course they can afford it but I prefer thrift shops, flea markets, and blue light specials. Plus they have to remember which fork to use to eat their salad and I like to just dig in face first. EFFORTS IN FUTILITY- I am a sports fan but not a fanatic. Thus I don’t live and die by the performances of my favorite pro teams. I am thankful for that because my football Panthers are the worst in the NFL right now. The Bobcats are second to last in their division in the NBA (yawn . . . who really cares) and my beloved baseball Pirates were recently voted the worst professional sports franchise in the history of mankind. Despite my ridiculous loyalty, I’m thankful I don’t lose sleep over their haplessness. MINER SIXTY NINER- I am thankful that my professional duties do not include underground mining. Thirty-three Chilean miners recently “enjoyed” sixty-nine days and nights trapped below the earth’s surface before being rescued. I would have never made it. I attempted to hide in the trunk of a car to sneak in the drive-in during high school but started screaming bloody murder five seconds after my friends tucked me in and closed me up. I’ve gladly paid the admission fee ever since. That’s about it. So don’t forget during this season of thanks to not only count your blessings, but also your not-blessings. And give someone a hug. (But don’t pat them down.)