WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM- Salty Experience Leaves a Bad Taste

     I was sure I had checked in every direction. I felt safe. Surely I was alone. Little did I know peril lurked behind me. In human form. Kinda Sorta. Suddenly and without warning, a sound I feared and dreaded exploded in my ears. Instinctively my glance redirected itself to the rear view mirror of my truck. And then I saw it. And a chill came over me the likes of which I hadn't felt since several years ago when I was stopped by a gun-toting soldier at a military checkpoint in a foreign country and I realized I didn't have my passport with me. Oops.
     I'll wrap all that up later but first, I feel the need to discuss a new term which has crept into my vocabulary, via my 18 year old son. We adults think we have the market cornered on fads, trends, and the latest happenings, but I believe teenagers secretly rule that domain. A while back, my son was describing an incident that involved some sort of minor disagreement among a couple of his classmate friends concerning who knows what. Excuse me for not remembering but that's not the important part. What matters is the part where my son described one of the participants by saying, "He got a little salty about it before he calmed down".
     Whobbee Doobee Whattee??? (That's my way of saying, "Hold on, what does that mean?") "It means salty," he said, amazed that I wasn't familiar with the term. My face exhibited the need for further explanation so he continued. "It's the cool way to say somebody is a little irritated, angered, and possibly showing a little tude." (I knew that "tude" meant attitude. After all, I'm not totally clueless).
     Within a couple weeks of being enlightened, a female college student where I coach was telling me a story and lo and behold, it showed up again, this time as she described one of her teammates as "getting a little salty" when the teammate's proposal about something or another was rejected in favor of  this girl's idea. That sorta thing. "You just now said salty!" I proclaimed. Her astonished wide eyes seemed to say, "Get with it, old man, everybody says salty now instead of irritated, miffed, angry, annoyed, aggravated, peeved, irked, or ticked off. This is 2018." (Her eyes were actually wrong about that. The incident actually happened back in 2017, not 2018, but who's counting).
     Return with me if you will to the rear view mirror incident. (Forget about the military checkpoint. It was long ago, wasn't really a big deal, and is irrelevant to this story, but may show up in a future column). On the day of the rear view mirror episode, I had just pulled out of my spot in a small parking lot where hardly anybody ever comes and goes. So small was it that it only held about eight automobiles and there was only one way in and out.
     As I departed the parking spot I realized I had gotten a message on my phone and wanted to check it. Looking around and seeing no movement anywhere for what seemed like miles, I stopped near the exit of the parking lot and began to read. Smack dab in the middle of my morning devotion that I receive by text, a loud and obnoxious horn pierced the calm and serenity of an otherwise perfect morning. My startled body shot through the roof of my truck, emerging bloody, dazed, and exposed to the elements from the neck up. (Okay, that didn't happen, but it did scare the bejeepers out of me and my body did lift slightly out of my seat. Thank goodness for seat belts).
     One look in the rear view mirror and I immediately realized that the car behind me contained a driver whose face was unmistakably salty. I expect the rest of his body was salty, too. I collected myself, made sure I hadn't soiled my underwear, waved to indicate my remorse, and pulled out of the entrance/exit, unblocking it in the process. A second glance toward my nemesis informed me that my pulling out of his way had not led to him losing any of his saltiness.
     Perhaps at that point I could have expressed my own saltiness through the use of various sorts of gestures involving specific fingers on an uplifted hand. But that's not really me. Besides, having the warped sense of humor that I do, I was too busy laughing out loud to consider retribution.
     Jesus says to the crowd in Matthew 5:13, ""You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot." Whobbee Doobee Whatee??? We are supposed to be salty? How can that be? Actually, it's a different kind of saltiness. Not the kind tossed out in conversations in the high school hallways and gymnasiums or college campuses.
     The type of salt Jesus was referring to is the kind that gives life, preserves goodness, and brings out the best in something. And that's the saltiness we're supposed to cling to and never lose when it comes to how we interact with others. It's the kind of salty we can all benefit from. It's the kind of salty that would have gently tapped the horn when I was blocking the way, then returned a wave and a smile when I attempted to apologize non-verbally. It's the kind of salty that changes the world . . . for the better. 

    

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: I Chased an Umpire Into the Locker Room, So What?

     It was not my proudest moment. As I raced past several of the college baseball players I coached at the time in pursuit of a terribly incompetent umpire bent on my team's demise, it never occurred to me what I would do if I caught him. I'm quite certain I would not have physically assaulted him in any manner, but I did want to continue the conversation we were having a few moments before. Actually there were three umpires, and to be honest, if I had to do it over again, I might do the same thing. Fortunately someone else was there who influenced my decision whether or not to continue forward.
     I'll get back to that in a moment. But first, I feel the need to share the details of a feature I watched on a sports television show recently. It was presented with a vein of humor, and I enjoyed every moment of it. It seems that on many college football sidelines, there exists an individual (normally a strength coach) whose sole purpose is to keep team members and staff from being on the field when they're not supposed to be. Apparently coaches and players alike are prone to run out onto the playing field and receive yellow flag penalties from zebra-striped referees when their emotions get the best of them.
     Known as the "Get Back Coach", he not only yells at everyone to "Get Back!" when they've exceeded their boundaries, as part of his duties he also physically pushes, restrains, or threatens potential offenders. Needless to say, the Get Back Coach is normally a physically imposing guy with little or no concern whether people like him or not. His job is not to be popular, his job is to hold players and coaches accountable.
     The feature I watched that day was unique in that it involved a Get Back Coach from a college football powerhouse whose Get Back responsibilities were confined to only one individual on the sidelines- the Defensive Coordinator, heretofore known as the DC. It seems this particular DC is the type who goes bananas throughout the game and is incapable of restraining himself. So this Get Back Coach shadows the DC the entire game and, based on the film footage shared during the feature, spends most of that time with his hand tugging the back of the DC's pants. Most games he winds up simply keeping his hand on the DC's belt loop instead of waiting for him to charge the field. The Get Back Coach guy was strong as an ox. He pulled the DC back onto the sidelines 30-40 times in that one featured game alone and every time, the DC was ticked off at the Get Back Coach for restraining him.
     Flash back many years ago to my confrontation with the umpire crew on that fateful day. My team was completely robbed of a well deserved victory and everybody there knew it, including the opposing coach and the umpires themselves. The lunacy occurred on the last play of the game and instead of winning as we should have if the rules had been applied properly, we were sent home in defeat. But not before I did my job (or overdid, depending on how you look at it) taking up for my team. I didn't curse, I didn't make physical contact, and I didn't spew personal attacks or saliva, but I did express my perspective in a rather aggressive manner. All was well until the umpires silently walked away without ever providing an explanation.
     So I just stood and watched as they neared the entrance to their locker room. At the last moment before they disappeared, one of them turned and said something extremely obnoxious to me. And I came unglued. I sprinted toward their locker room like a gazelle being pursued by a lion. But I never made it inside. By chance, one of my coaching friends from another sport had traveled with me to the game that day and happened to be nearby as the scene unfolded. In that moment, he became not only my friend, Christian brother, and accountability partner, he also became my Get Back Coach.
     As best I can remember, he intercepted me and picked me up off the ground, preventing me from going another inch further. I don't know what would have happened had I made it into the umpire locker room, and fortunately I'll never know. My Get Back Coach prevented me from acting out any further.
     Proverbs 27:17 says "Iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." We need people around us to hold us accountable. We need people who will be honest with us and not tell us what we want to hear. We need objective people in our lives who can set us straight when we're driven by temporary emotions. In short, we need Get Back Coaches in our lives. And we need them to be strong. To this day I have a group of strong men I can share with on a regular basis who are invaluable to me. And that same Get Back Coach from all those years ago is one of them.
     If I could relive that day on the field all over again, who knows, I might do the same thing. Perhaps I would voice my opinion in no uncertain terms and be the leader my players expect me to be. But the one thing I would certainly do is bring a Get Back Coach along with me on the bus. And I would make sure he was plenty strong.

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM- The Circle of Life Doesn't Get Stuck in the Mud

     It was slightly embarrassing. I stood there precariously balancing on my left foot, which was placed in a hunting boot, ankle deep in a mud bath. The muddy sock that contained my right foot dangled in the December air- cold, wet, and humiliated. My footless right boot had stuck in the mud a few feet back and there I stood on one shaky leg, helpless to move. My middle son turned and looked back at me with one of those looks they give you. Moments before, we had been trudging through nearly knee deep mud on a cold, winter Alabama afternoon on our way to try to trick a deer or two into appearing in our rifle scope.
     I'll leave my muddy foot dangling in the air and get back to that in a bit.
     I watched a cartoon movie the other night and as usual, I watched by myself. If you recall from my Christmas column, I'm the only family member left who will watch cartoon Christmas specials and Disney cartoon classics. In this instance, it was the Lion King, and I don't know why, but when I flipped to the channel where it was on, I was hooked.
     There exists in the Lion King this whole idea of a thing called the Circle of Life. What goes around comes around, that sorta thing. But there's more to it than that. It's really about coming of age. As one generation fades, another rises to take its place. We humans seem to accept this idea, yet in many ways, we are hesitant to embrace it.
     Take for example, the gradual passing of the torch from a father to his sons. One day your father is disciplining you as a child, then before you know it, he's your friend. And then you turn around and find yourself taking care of him. It's a strange sort of transition that sometimes progresses in subtle ways.
     This past Christmas, our family spent some time at my parent's house. Dad and Mom are 80 and 78, respectively. Yet I've never thought of them as old. Mom had a doctor make a reference to her being elderly recently and she laughed out loud, as did I when she told me. "Tell the Doc that 90 is the new elderly!" I said. Mom and Dad still migrate south for the winter. They go to dances where they dance more than they watch. They are most certainly not elderly.
     But I did notice on Christmas Eve that Dad, who hadn't been feeling 100%, didn't jump up from the couch when we all decided to relocate to another room. And as I walked by him, he stuck out his hand. He needed some help getting up so I obliged. He's never done that before, which I think is incredible for an 80 year old. But it did send me a message: Dad's not getting any younger and at some point, I may need to help take care of him the way he once took care of me. He's always been a stud of a human being to me. I've always known even to this day, if we were to get in a wrestling match, he would find a way to kick my rear end all over the place.
     They say kids grow up quicker these days. First it's potty training and before you can shake a stick, they've graduated high school and the next thing you know, you're a grandparent. But I'm not buying the idea that they grow up quicker than they used to. There are still 24 hours in a day just like there were 4 or 5 generations ago. It still takes plenty of sweat, tears, restless nights, and multiple years for the transition to occur.
     My wife and I earned every moment of parenthood while my three boys were growing up. We loved it but we wouldn't go back to diaper changing and struggling to get every mouth properly fed in the restaurant before all the food ended up on the floor. Oh, we enjoyed those moments, I guess, but for those who say we should have enjoyed them and appreciated them more at the time, I remind them that we did the best we could. And now we're appreciating them being able to wipe and feed themselves (bein's how they are 25, 22, and 18). And they participate with us in grown up conversations. They are becoming men right before our eyes, and I for one refuse to lament that fact and wish they were children again, even though I wouldn't trade a moment of their childhoods.
     So how does the hunting trip fit in? Recall that I was standing there with one muddy foot dangling in the frigid air, while the other foot-filled boot was stuck in knee deep mud, while an empty boot buried in mud nearby taunted me. This 22 year old son of mine had some choices at that point once he turned and saw me: 1) Point, laugh, and enjoy my predicament by milking it for all it was worth 2) Snap a picture on his cellphone to be posted later on every Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram, Get2KnowYa, Megashare, SunnyandShare, available. (Okay, I made up a few there but you get the point). 3) Continue to walk on and let the old man figure it out himself. After all, I'm  supposed to be the dad who can do anything.
     He chose none of the above. Without speaking, he simply walked back toward me, pried the empty boot from the mud, placed it on my dangling foot, and gently prodded my muddied foot back into its rightful place in the boot. Then he turned and continued to lead us into the woods.
     As he trudged forward, I froze for a moment as it hit me that the Circle of Life had progressed another notch on the wheel. I will always be his dad. But for a moment, this 22 year old was the parent, taking care of a helpless child. What happened? When did he turn into a grown up? What did I do to deserve an adult child who is responsible, considerate, and mature? Same goes for my other two Stroupe boys (for the most part).
     I'll tell you what I (we) did to deserve it. We made tons of mistakes and messed up a lot. But we lived each moment. We cherished each stage. We didn't rush them forward, forcing them to grow up too fast by trying to match them up with a future marriage partner when they were 9 years old. And we also tried to make sure they didn't lag behind in maturity due to us spoiling them by fighting all their battles for them. Somehow, some way, they grew up. Imperfect human beings raised by imperfect parents, but grown.
     Matthew 6:34 reminds us not to worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. I may not have my dad in my life forever, and my children will go on without me someday. But if I waste time worrying about that aspect of the future, I will certainly miss out on the blessings of today. That's what I think the verse is saying. Enjoy each day. Don't try to slow it down or speed it up. If your dad is still around, help him out of the chair. Or fetch his boot from the mud. Either way, embrace the Circle of Life and cherish the now as long as you can.

    

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM- I don't remember Dossier being on my SAT

     As you may know from reading some of my previous musings, I tend to make up words from time to time. It's all part of good writing, I was once told by an English teacher. As long as they know what you're trying to say, grammar and spelling don't really matter. It's about ideas.
     I'll have to admit that lately I've been confronted with words I'm not familiar with. Quite frankly, I may not be as intelligent as I thought I was. Take, for example, the word "dossier". First of all, the only reason I can pronounce it correctly now is because I keep hearing it all over the news. If I had been initially confronted with it on paper and asked to pronounce it, I would have figured it to be something that may have rhymed with the word "glossier", as in- "The paper you have your Pickled Beets Canner of the Year award printed on isn't shiny and attractive enough, it needs to be glossier."
     But that's not how you pronounce the word. I've racked my pea-sized brain to come up with a word that rhymes with the correct pronunciation of dossier and I'm just not cultured or intelligent enough to conjure up one. Not one to give up, I shall try anyway. I guess the closest I can come up with is "floss today", as in- "Don't forget to floss today, else the mean dentist will complain about having to grind the candy apple particles from between your teeth."
     Here's another admission- until I looked it up, I had no idea what a dossier was. I feel, however, that I deserve a pass on that. Before a few months ago, I had never heard the word. Hence, unless I was one of those champion spelling bee kids who look up words in the dictionary from sunup to sundown, how could I be expected to know what it was? Travel with me to 1981 if you will, and sit next to me while I'm taking the SAT, before it was recentered (which happened in 1995) to make the test scores seem more impressive. If the word "cellphone" had appeared in the English section, neither you nor I would have had no clue. Ditto for dossier now.
     A totally redneck pronunciation guide for "dossier" for those of you who still can't get it would be something like- "doss (rhymes with wasp without the p) ee (pretty much see without the s) ay (day without the d) and so it's doss-ee-ay. Sorry English teachers, that's the redneck way and I can relate to it. But that still doesn't help me with the definition.
     And that's important all of a sudden because that's all you hear in the news. Where is the dossier? Have you read the dossier? Who wrote the dossier? Did somebody tells lies in the dossier? Will people go to jail because of the dossier?
     My first thought was that a dossier was some sort of French crescent sweet roll of some sort. It sounds delicious, as in- "I'll have two eggs, orange juice, and a dossier with whipped cream on top, please". But when they started talking about reading it, I knew I was out of luck.
     I think sometimes people in power and the reporters that cover them try to use big words to give the impression they are smarter than the rest of us in the general population. They can't just say "investigative report", they have to make it sound really smart so they toss the word "dossier" around. I don't like it. Tell it to me straight. I speak Southernese and I can do it with the best of them. If they want to play that game, I could throw some words at them there political and television elitists that would leave them feeling stupid and clamoring for their thesauruses and dictionaries. "Eenin, Maam, purdy sunset, idnit? Right near as purdy as that'un yesty afnoon". (For my non-Southernese readers who prefer formality, the correct interpretation of the above sentence would be something along the lines of "Good evening, my lady, it sure is a delightful sunset, is it not? Reminds me of the one I witnessed not more than 24 hours ago at dusk, just before darkness began to set in". (Still confused? Go back and read the first sentence and see if it now makes better sense. If you had to go back and read again, somebody needs to learn you how to speak Southernese).
     In Matthew 6:7, Jesus warns us about using super size, intelligent sounding words when praying. He reminds us not to babble on and on trying to sound impressive. We can't impress God with our vocabulary. He knew the words cellphone, photobomb, and microchip before the beginning of time. We're not going to tell Him anything He doesn't already know, a fact mentioned in Matthew 6:8, when we are reminded that God already knows what we need before we ask. So trying to word it just right and sound impressive won't get us any points with the Lord. Prayer is not about the words, it's about the relationship. It's about communicating with an open heart with the One who loves us. And that's a whole lot more satisfying than any dossier could ever be, even if they topped it with whipped cream. 
    

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM- New Year's Promises and a little boy named Johnny who gets a bad rap

     Don't read this if you're good at keeping New Year's Resolutions. You won't be able to relate. Read on if you, like most of us, fail by Valentine's Day to 1)lose weight and get in shape 2)read and volunteer more 3) text and gossip less 4)whatever else self improvement gig you attempt but can't seem to accomplish
     I am an eternal optimist. I believe things will turn out well, even when my New Year's resolutions typically go awry. I met someone once who chose flossing her teeth as a resolution and apparently it worked for her. Kudos. I already floss so I can't steal that one. (Though I don't floss enough according to my dental hygienist. Back off, I do my best and it's not a daily priority).
     So here it goes for 2018. Despite my propensity toward optimism, most of my resolutions each year are worded in the negative tense, normally beginning with the phrase "I will not". I have come to realize this makes them easier to keep, as in "I will not become an ISIS or Al Queda terrorist". This is a much easier resolution than "I will sweat profusely 30 minutes a day doing some type of heart healthy movement".

Herewith, in no particular order, are my 2018 resolutions:  

#5. I will NOT become an ISIS or Al Queda terrorist (as mentioned above). By placing this on the list, I stand to have a better percentage of success in the overall tally. For example, if I make 5 resolutions and I'm able to keep 4, my score would be 80%, which under the new relaxed grading systems in most public institutions, gets me a B or maybe even a B+.

#4. In an attempt to be politically correct, I will NOT use an individual's name (male or female) in a phrase that could potentially be offensive to them. Here are some examples:
A. Katie bar the door- What the heck does that mean and why should every female named Katie be saddled with the negativity associated with that phrase? I have a niece named Katie and she will no doubt appreciate that I will refrain from uttering the following phrase: "If I don't get my liver mush and scrambled eggs fix in the next 30 minutes, I'll turn into a vampire and it'll be Katie bar the door for everybody around me."
B. Little Johnny Jokes- My dad is named Johnny and my proper first name is John, so I'm protesting this offensive Tomfoolery. (Why does Tom have to be associated with foolishness?) Anyway, Little Johnny is mischievous and always outwits his teachers, normally with various sorts of PG-13 statements and comebacks. Here is an example (rated G): Little Johnny was at school and had to go to the bathroom real bad but the teacher said he had to recite his ABCs before he could go. Things went well until he got to L-M-N-O and then he skipped to Q. Teacher says, "Little Johnny, where is the P?" and he replies "Running down my leg." That sorta thing. (Why can't there be something positive associated with the name Johnny? Maybe there is, keep reading).
C. For Pete's Sake- Why does every outcome have to benefit this Pete guy and why is he so negatively affected by our mistakes? That's too much emphasis on one guy, as in- "You better eat them sweet potatoes and collard greens, or else you'll be constipated for a solid week, for Pete's sake." What's it to Pete if I'm plugged up?

#3. I will NOT butt dial on my cellphone if at all possible. That's kinda dumb to say, bein's how none of us can prevent a good butt dial every once in a while. Which is why I am at all times careful and cautious of what I might be saying about someone. They may hear me say it and totally not get that I am only blowing off steam and would never say what I truly felt to their face. Not long ago I butt-dialed my wife. She reminded me later. "What did I say?" I asked. She replied, "You were humming. Sounded like a song on the radio in background." Guilty as charged. As usual, I didn't know the words. When in doubt, hum. But whatever you do, don't say anything at any time about your wife unless it's lovely and uplifting. If she's listening and you bash her, it's Katy bar the door.

#2. I will NOT join the ever increasing crowd of decent human beings who blame everything that goes wrong in life on either 1) Donald Trump or 2) Hillary Clinton. Here are some facts: Donald Trump is President, like it or not. You can say "Not My President" or whatever else you want to derogatorily say, but if you are an American, he's the top ranking official in your country at the moment. As for Hillary, let her ride off into the sunset. She's only relevant because people keep bringing her name up. I truly believe the rest of the world was laughing at us during the last election, mainly because of how silly all the Tomfoolery got between the candidates and the folks who supported those candidates. Let's come together as a nation of proud people, for Pete's sake, and show them how mature we can be. Then they'll stop laughing and start respecting again.

#1. I will NOT give up on my daily commitment to exercise. I started a few years ago and I've done well, so I'm not stopping now. I've tried keeping rhythm on treadmills, elevating weights skyward, throwing college baseball batting practice, and power walking on trails and sidewalks. They're all good but I think I have discovered what works best for me and that's a machine called an elliptical. I can run through the air like Santa's reindeer without my feet pounding the ground and giving me shin splints and plantar fasciitis. Plus folks around me are falsely impressed when they see how fast they think I am for a 54 year old dude, as in- "Hey, check out that old dude gettin' after it on the cheat machine. When Little Johnny over there keels over, you're giving him mouth to mouth, for Pete's sake. I wouldn't touch that old geezer's lips with a 10 foot pole."

Another new and improved Bonus #1. A number of years ago, I made a commitment at my first waking moment each day to pray a short prayer from Psalm 118:24 and Psalm 51:10-11. I have tried really hard to train myself the moment I am first conscious to pray "This is the day you have made, Lord, I will rejoice and be glad in it- Create in me a clean, pure heart O' God, and renew a right spirit within me". I can't say I've been perfect with that, but more mornings than not, these thoughts wake up with me and get me started. It's a resolution I will make and try to keep every year as long as I am blessed with the Breath of Life here on Earth. And I am confident when my eyes open, as I start another day of existence, there to greet me will be my Heavenly Father- Johnny on the spot.