Getting Close

 Our culture has always been confused about the difference between heroes and celebrities.  Even more so now.  We seem to equate the well-known with the exceptional.  No wonder all manner of folks from a professional wrestler to a professional con-man has been elected to political office.  

Recently, we've lost some real cultural heroes.  That they became famous and thus celebrated has more to do with their character and deeds than their air-time.  How do you compare a Hank Aaron or a John Lewis, with a loudmouth salesman, a mediocre actor, or a paranoid bully?  

You can't.  The medium really has become the message, hasn't it?  

I'm bracing myself for the loss of more true heroes.  I'm at the age when my childhood idols are passing the torch and passing from this world.  Seems like they come in bunches these days.  But there are two, just over the age of 80 that will hit the hardest.

My first two idols were Willie Mays and then Bob Dylan.  Like millions, no doubt, they were influential and transformative in my passage from childhood to adulthood.  

I've never met either in person but came close once.  In the early 1980s, I went to the California State Fair in Sacramento.  I was on my way to Lake Tahoe for the weekend with some friends and we stopped briefly in Sacramento.  They wanted to check on another friend who lived there and I drove over to the Fairgrounds to stop by the Press Box at the racetrack there.  It was August, and in my second job as a correspondent for a thoroughbred magazine a slow time for big races.  I thought I'd just check-in and pick up the latest press releases, talk to a few of the media reps I knew, and get caught up on recent developments before a relaxing weekend.

Walking across the fairgrounds, I heard an announcement.  "Attention fairgoers, the autograph session featuring Johnny Unitas and Willie Mays will end in 10 minutes."  Apparently, those two sports heroes were signing autographs near the saddling paddock of the racetrack.  The session ran from 11-12 pm.  It was a good way to draw folks to the fair, and especially to the 10 race program to begin at 12:15 that afternoon.  

I momentarily thought of rushing over there.  My watch said 11:53 and I figured I was about a 10 min. walk from the track, so I just smiled and slowed my pace.  I reached the track a few minutes past noon and then began to figure out how to get to the Press Box.  Press credentials in hand, I asked a security guard near the entrance.  He told me that unlike other fair tracks, this Press Box was only reachable by a staircase almost hidden from the entrance.  I thanked him and then located the door that opened to a wide cement staircase, much like one in a parking lot.  As I began the climb, I heard voices and noticed that three people were above me on the staircase, taking their time and laughing and joking as they climbed the steps.  I recognized the director of publicity from my time in track Press Boxes, but who were the other two gray-haired gentlemen?  As I got within a few steps from them, it became clear.  Standing about 5 feet from me and completely unaware of my presence was Willie Mays and Johnny Unitas, arguably the two greatest athletes of the 1960s.  

Was this my chance to get a Mays autograph?  
Major dilemma.  I knew how much these two cultural icons valued their privacy.  Wouldn't I be just another autograph hunter.  And out of bounds, too because their time for signing was over.  

I slowed my step, remembering something I'd learned at the Bay Meadows Press Box.  The Bay Area track's Press Box was often frequented by Joe Dimaggio.  When I became a regular, I was told to avoid talking to him and to respect his privacy--always.  I got that.  So that became the norm.  

As I relented I started making excuses in my mind for why I never approached Willie Mays.  What if I got dissed big time.  What if he was angry that someone ambushed him for one last autograph.  I'd read that Mays could have a short fuse, especially given the abuse and discrimination he had to endure in the early part of his career.  I let it go.  Sometimes just getting close is enough.

Natural Surprise

     When was the last time you were truly surprised?  Not pleasantly surprised, but truly surprised.  Was it a birthday party your friends and family pulled off behind your back, or the reaction of someone that radically did not fit your expectation?  

    Currently, some of us are continually being surprised by the feckless behavior of many politicians.  Their prioritizing party politics over morality or ethical behavior falls more under the heading of disappointment, but to see it from those we had a modicum of respect for is shocking.

    Surprises are best when they come out of the blue.  I should say under the blue.  Nature provided me with two wonderful surprises on days when the sky was blue and bluer.  

    I was casting a fly one summer afternoon in the headwaters of the Deschutes River.  This is a magical little spot where the mighty Deschutes actually springs out of a small lake and meanders through a meadow looking more like a spring creek.  It's also the place I first caught a brook trout on a fly, so holds a special affection for me.  One afternoon about 10 years ago I chanced to find myself alone in this enchanting spot.  I was running a nymph through a small set of riffles when I noticed a set of eyes poke out of the water about 20 feet t my left.  Is that a beaver? I thought.  Am I having the quintessential Oregon experience?  (We are the beaver state) No, within minutes the eyes re-appeared attached to a friendly otter.  I backed up a few feet to let him know I was not aggressive and that I realized this was his home turf.  He soon disappeared but returned a few minutes later with his family.  I watched spellbound as his mate, their two pups, and then finally their breadwinner crossed the river in front of me and then slowly swam away down the riverbank on the opposite.  The last image I have of them is all four bookended by mom and pop swimming in an S pattern close to the bank and out toward another meadow. The smile that they gave me lasted for two days.

    Another natural surprise I received came in a very different environment.  I was traveling to a few Hawaiian islands with two friends one time in the mid-1980s.  My travel-mates were both on restricted diets by choice and were not drinking coffee.  OK, I thought I can drink tea for a couple of weeks.  By the third day on the big island of Hawaii, I was lusting for a good cup of coffee.  I even brought a small plastic bag of my favorite house blend, should I need it.  The problem was, I couldn't find a coffee filter anywhere. There were no large supermarkets near our condo there, but I found a little hardware/general merchandise store and bought a small funnel.  I tried a paper towel as a filter and worked... somewhat.

    After a few days of drinking bad coffee, I was ready for a change.  We were headed to some historical site to visit the next day, I looked at the map (that's all we had in those days) and saw that the famous Kona Coffee Company was a short mile or two from where we'd be.  Later that afternoon, I excused myself from one of the historical site visits and found myself walking along a narrow highway toward the town of Kona.  It was a pleasant walk, with lush flora and beautiful birdsong in my background.  As I rounded a curve, my eyes found a large tree whose branches made a nice shady spot I'd soon walk through. About halfway up the tree, my gaze fell on a huge white face.  An owl, ogling me, friendly but nevertheless demanding immediate respect.  I stood still.  What a stunning sight.  Frozen in my mind forever.  Natural surprise.

Mock Me

    Had a thought today.  Many US Government or Civics teachers use the idea of a "Mock Congress" as an engaging way to teach how the Legislative branch of government works.  There are many forms of this activity but most depend on the size of the classes and the kind of facilities available.  Not to be confused with any large scale event like a Model UN or some sort of Boys/Girls State, the Mock Congress is for 1-3 classes to role-play how Congress works.  

    To do this effectively you need to have students play the role of the House of Representatives, Senators, and then the VP, Party leaders, and perhaps a Seargent of Arms, or even some members of the media.  The whole purpose of this effort is so that students can form committees and create, debate, and try to pass bills into law.  As things develop, many of the fine points of the process emerge.  Students try to compromise, re-write, and struggle to actually get something passed.  

    Naturally competitive, students usually get into the process.  Add to this the role-playing of political figures, you have the makings of an engaging, worthwhile learning activity.  

    It follows that  I became enthralled with the notion of what would this be like today given the political realities and division so prominent in the US Congress today.  We'd certainly get all manner of Stimulus bills, but what other necessary legislation would cross their desks.  I might add here that actually writing a bill is a great exercise in critical thinking and the use and power of language.  

I haven't done this in a classroom for upwards of 15 years now.  Back then bills that legalized marijuana were big.  But students also tried to produce legislation that applied to every facet of their political ideology.  Today, we might get bills that attempt to deal with student loan debt, minimum wage, and auto safety.  But stalwart issues like the death penalty and abortion would certainly make their presence felt.  

    And then there is the matter of students assuming the roles of the most fragrant and unpopular, respected and ethical politicos that inhabit the Capitol building today.  That might be the best part.

    Initially, I thought that this would be something I might like to avoid.  But in reconsidering and looking at all the skills and objectives involved, I've changed my mind.  Most welcome would be the actual act of engaging another person or persons in a verbal exchange of ideas.  Kids today need role models who do not interrupt each other and who can keep a civil tone.  I think I'd tell them about Kelly.  

Kelly was a young African-American man that was once in one of my classes.  He fancied himself a preacher and had the voice and disposition to back it up.  But he also had another quality.  After the more emotional students would share their ideas on a given subject, Kelly would finally raise his hand to speak.  Then, very calmly, he'd preface his remarks by saying very slowly... "Well, here's what I think..."  What would follow is a well-reasoned response detailing his ideas and with whom he agreed and disagreed.  It was a thing of beauty.  Something we can't legislate but something that would definitely benefit the US Congress.