Pre-Ramble: So, gosh, it seems like forever since I wrote a blog post. I hope I haven’t forgotten how. Hope my readers haven’t given up on me and moved on to some other blog site that features quirky random topics …

For the past few weeks I’ve been mired in a blur of high school graduation ”tasks” as my youngest child takes those last few steps up to the edge of the nest.  The pride and ceremony that mark graduation from high school are seminal and well-deserved. These kids have worked hard. So many caps. So many gowns. So many wide eyes. So many hopes and dreams.

And - so many house parties, … so many balloon bunches, … so many yummy sheet cakes. I’ll just say that orchestrating a graduation is more complicated than one might think and, like carrying an umbrella, renting a tent does not automatically co-opt the weather into not raining on your grad party day. Thank goodness I have the kind of friends who will assure me/lie to me that our garage was totally “festive.”  Never mind that we have been raking, weeding, mulching, planting and power-washing for months. No one could see any of that from the garage. Folks got a good look at our weed wacker, Miracle Grow and arsenal of snow shovels though.

Blog-time – So, ten days is practically an eternity in blog-time.  So much has happened in the last couple weeks – General Petraeus faints on the stand; Kobe pounds the Celtics; something or other is happening in South Africa that involves soccer balls; and the oil “spill” rages on in the Gulf. 

And that will be the last time you hear me refer to that horrendous, ecologically detrimental act of negligence by the inappropriately sanguine word “spill.”  … Like, …

“Oopsy, we bad … Naughty BP, … we made a little boo-boo. Here, we’ll just sop up that whole silly mess with paper towels … “

Milk spills. Sippy cups spill. Fluffy twirling figure skaters take spills. Millions and millions of thick toxic gallons of crude oil surging uncontrollably into the water for weeks upon weeks due to the shoddy, careless - okay, criminally negligent - practices of a smug international conglomerate is far beyond anything that could even remotely be characterized as a “spill.”

The whole scenario in the Gulf is so appalling and sad that I can barely bring myself to address it directly. This is as close as I can get for now.

The Take-Away:  Such a mix of events and emotions happening now. So proud of my 2010 graduate!  Looking forward to watching her test those wings as she moves into her next Big Adventure. Looking forward too, to filling up this “empty nest” with lots of new and exciting ideas, projects, and hopefully some compelling blog posts as well.

Pre-Ramble:  After a delay of several hours due to pilot availability and then electrical problems with the plane, we finally touched down at Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport. It was 3:15 a.m. … a long, long day. 

Well, so we weary passengers were trudging up the jetway into the now vacant gate area, when there on the floor, off to one side, alone, sat a young army private.

He was wearing what looked to be standard issue combat fatigues and was accompanied by a backpack and some other light gear. He looked tired, but no more tired than we were. He didn’t look sad or injured or angry or forlorn. He looked calm and “waiting.” … Waiting for something to happen or someone to come.

In that moment, I noticed him only as an aside. We swept past and made our way up the long empty hallway to the baggage claim – the last stop before we would be in the car and finally on the way home.  Half listening to the hum of the wheels on my trailing bag, my thoughts went to the waiting soldier.

I wondered where he had been and what he had seen. I wondered if he was on his way in, or on his way out. I wondered if he was waiting to see what was in store, or whether this was his last stop before he would finally be on the way home as well.  And where was home?  Did he need a ride?  Who was his family, and would they be waiting there, anxiously anticipating his return?  If he had already served a tour of duty, or two, or three, I wondered whether he had been scared, or empowered … Whether he had suffered injuries or had injured someone else … Was he challenged to “be all that he could be” … ?  Or, hardened at too young an age to the realities of war and life.

The Take-Away:  But mostly, I wished that in that moment, as I was coming out of the jetway, that I had gone over to that young man and looked into his eyes and shaken his hand and told him how grateful and thankful I was that he was wearing that uniform and that he had made the decision to step up and serve our country.

Pre-Ramble:  Like millions around the country, I was on the edge of my seat last night watching the 2010 NCAA National Championship basketball game between the first seed Duke Blue Devils and the sweet ‘n’ scrappy Cinderella Butler Bulldogs.

With 4,200 students, [Butler] was the smallest school to play for the title since the field was expanded to 64 in 1985 and fourth-smallest overall. Forget state-of-the-art facilities. The Bulldogs play in an 82-year-old gym, the barn-like Hinkle Fieldhouse. Practice there, too. At 6:30 a.m. There are no athletic dorms and, yes, those were some of the Butler players spotted in the classroom Monday morning.

And, what a game!! Duke was favored to win, but plenty of folks were rooting for the Bulldogs to pull a “Hoosier” victory. The score never favored one team over the other and there were times where Butler looked like it was going to pull ahead only to be slapped back to reality by an efficient Duke 3-pointer.

Duke ended up beating Butler 61-59 after a 3-point half-court desperation shot by Butler’s Gordon Hayward (shown right) thwacked off the backboard, then rim, falling to the floor in a breath-taking-but-failed final attempt to clinch the win. 

The real take-away from the game however, went far beyond the scoreboard. As is the case in many of these kinds of contests, winning is secondary to the actual game itself – the twists and turns, … the way the action unfolds, … the behavior of the players and coaching staff, … the decisions of the officials…  This game definitely delivered on all of these scores – lots of amazing athletic moves; a tight game with lots of turnovers and no early run-away; nothing but good clean competition on both sides (oh, sure there was a little ticky-tack going on, but nothing ugly); and, for the most part, the officials ”let the players play the game.”

Let me state the obvious – What really made this game interesting though, was the greater sports-world context in which it was played. Front loaded onto yesterday’s news cycle along with the national championship game were both Opening Day of major league baseball, and the return of golf’s number one player-turned-scumbag, Tiger Woods. Ironically, until a few months ago, we thought that TW was one of the few professional athletes with integrity,… (And, somebody’s gotta say it, his current wannabe goatee is … unfortunate.)

The contrast in vibe between the earnest, haven’t-really-been-around-long-enough-to-screw-up NCAA players and professional athletes, and particularly Tiger Wood’s now epic, drug-through-a-toxic-sinkhole persona, is stark.  Never mind that one of the star players on the Butler team is nick-named “Babyface.” If you don’t know which one this is, look at a team photo (or photo above) and I guarantee you’ll be able to pick him out of the line-up.

No whining - Like my past blog posts on Eagle Scouts and such – college basketball players, the guys on the Duke and Butler teams, (the players on all of these teams really…) … These guys are in a league of their own. In last night’s game they demonstrated not only some outstanding skills on the basketball court, but they also provided a shining, much-needed example of what determination, integrity and sportsmanship look like. We didn’t see any tantrums or cheap shots or excuses out there, just a great competition between dedicated, talented, (tall) athletes. Butler’s head coach Brad Stevens describes it this way:

It’s the way they play that most charmed people,… The Bulldogs call it “The Butler Way,” and it has nothing to do with Xs and Os, backdoor cuts or zone defense. It’s the next guy stepping up, everybody having each other’s back. Somebody that is a team-first person, that accepts responsibility, accountable for their actions …  those are all things that lend to a successful program.”

The Take-Away: These guys are the kind of guys we need around here … making the plays, anticipating the rebounds, rolling with the bad calls, and ultimately, win or lose — owning their stuff, moving it forward and getting it done with grace, style and integrity. These are the kind of stand-up guys we need not only in sports, but in our neighborhoods, communities and world as well!

Post-Note: Heck, these are the kind of guys I’m hoping my daughters will bring home for Sunday dinner! (Especially you, Babyface.)

Pre-Ramble:  So, time sure flies when you’re sunning and funning (it would appear that we have lost an entire hour, in fact).

Alas, the week-long Mexi-fest has come to an end, with many happy memories, none so precious as the sound of the surf and the warm ocean breeze blowing  through the palm trees in the sleepy midday sun (above).

It is amazing to experience the difference in pace between the non-vacation day — an endless series of to-do’s, errands, chores, letting the dog out, deadlines, obligations, cell phones, clocks, television, news, politics, laundry, letting the dog in – and the resort vacation day which involves none of these things. 

The world moves along on its own time … the sun comes up, … progresses slowly across the sky, … and finally slips down in a firey ball over the horizon. A steady string of minutes, hours and days make space for body, brain and spirit to recalibrate and refresh themselves in the freedom of mindless task-less-ness.

Que pasa?  If I was feeling ambitious right now, I would launch into the science behind down-time, toss out a few neurobiological factoids, and give a quick how-to on the relaxation response.  But, no-can-do!! … This would take waaaay too much time and energy… This Chica is still in vacation mode.  All things informative, useful and pithy will have to wait until margarita time is officially over … (tomorrow).

The Take-Away: If this was the pace of play every day, nothing of any substance would get done. Thankfully, the primary goal of this vacation was to get nothing of any substance done … Mission totally accomplished!

Pre-Ramble:  As the Olympic Games continue, I am compelled to re-address the topic in a more thoughtful way.

To reduce the premier international competition to a flip commentary on fashion (as I did on 2-22-10), is to side-step the depth of value in such a peaceful coming together of nations. It also diminishes the significant amount of time, energy and sheer power of will required on the part of the individual athletes to bring themselves to this pinnacle of achievement. Olympic athletes cash in countless hours of hard work and sacrifice in exchange for the privilege of competing on the world stage. These are experiences that most of us will never have in our lifetimes. (… When was the last time you luged?)

As I tune in each night, I am both entertained and engulfed in the drama, as unexpected performances, circumstances and Olympic moments unfold before me. Where else in our lives do we have the opportunity to witness such feats of twisting, twirling, turning speed? Such grace and agility? Such skill and dedication?  Such fearlessness?

• Where else could we see the fast-paced thrill of a defiant puck b-line the frenetic, sprawling snarl of skates and sticks to reach the net in Olympic Hockey?
• Where else could we watch well-meaning, but misguided Dutch speed-skating coach Gerard Kemkers collapse in horror on the side-lines as he realizes that he has emphatically and inadvertently flagged record-breaking speed skater Sven Kramer into the wrong lane?  
• Where else could we witness the lyrical and technically superior program of Korean figure-skater Kim Yu-Na, possibly one of the greatest world-record performances in figure skating history?
• … Only to be followed by the courageous and poignant routine performed by Canadian skater Joannie Rochette just four days after the sudden death of her mother … where, at the end of her bronze medal routine, young Rochette looks up through her tears and extends a silent kiss into the heavens?

Reality show – When so many other media venues seem to celebrate profound inactivity, the Olympic Games give us nothing but action. The irony in the term “Idol” comes to mind here, as does the pumped up/lethargic Jersey Shore crew, standing around the breakfast bar in tank tops and flip-flops talkin’ about flippin’ nothin’.  The Olympic athletes give us a rare ring-side seat where we can watch as they bring their outstanding and exhausting physical and mental fortitude to meet the significant and challenging situation at hand.  Beyond the banality of a “reality show,” these athletes are giving us a glimpse into the reality of this audacious quest. 

The Take-Away:  Like the rare and fleeting prowess of the athletes themselves, the Olympic Games is a unique and wondrous spectacle. Nowhere else in our international culture are individuals and nations able to come together to share in this kind of collective moment. Through this international event, we have the remarkable privilege of standing alongside our fellow human beings and experiencing the spirit and exuberance in the moments that they have been working toward, some for more than half of their young lives.

Almost makes you want to go out and buy a cowbell!

Pre-Ramble:  This story appeared in my inbox the other day and it was so compelling, I wanted to share it with you.

One cold January morning in 2007, a man with a violin played six Bach pieces in a Washington D.C. subway station. He played for a total of 45 minutes during which time approximately two thousand people walked through the station, most of them on their way to work.

“He emerged from the Metro at the L’Enfant Plaza Station and positioned himself against a wall beside a trash basket. By most measures, he was nondescript: a youngish white man in jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt and a Washington Nationals baseball cap. From a small case, he removed a violin. Placing the open case at his feet, he shrewdly threw in a few dollars and pocket change as seed money, swiveled it to face pedestrian traffic, and began to play…

• After three minutes, a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing, slowed his pace, stopped for a few seconds, and then hurried along.  
• Four minutes later, a woman threw one dollar into violinist’s opened case, and, without stopping, continued to walk.
• Six minutes later, a young man leaned against a nearby wall to listen to the music, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.
• Another ten minutes went by and a three-year old boy stopped to listen, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The child turned to look at the violinist again, but the mother continued to pull him along.  The child continued to walk, but twisted his head around to get another glimpse of the violinist the whole time.
• This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.
• During the 45 minutes of continuous playing by the musician, six people stopped and listened for a short while and about twenty gave money, but continued to walk at their normal pace.  The violinist collected a total of $32.
• The violinist finished playing and silence took over the station.  No one noticed.  No one applauded. There was no recognition of any kind.

The violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars.  Two days before, Mr. Bell played to a sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.”

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception and people’s priorities.  The questions raised where these: In a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? … If so, do we stop to appreciate it? … Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

The Take-Away:  If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made … How many other things are we missing?

Post-Note:  The Washington Post won a Pulitzer prize for Gene Weingarten’s story about this experiment.

Pre-Ramble: Whether you’re for him or against him, one thing that most folks can pretty much agree on (except for Rush Limbaugh, who doesn’t agree with anyone on anything) is that the recent award of the Nobel Peace Prize to American President Barack Obama is a puzzlement. Before now, who would have ever thought that the response to such news would be such a resounding, “Huh?!”

“So soon? Too early. He hasn’t had the time to do anything yet.”  — Lech Walensa, former Polish president, 1983 Nobel winner

“The real question Americans are asking is, “What has President Obama actually accomplished? It is unfortunate that the president’s star power has outshined tireless advocates who have made real achievements working towards peace and human rights.”  — Michael Steele, chairman of the Republican National Committee

“A bold statement of international support for his vision.”  — Former president Jimmy Carter, 2002 Nobel winner

“I join my fellow Americans in expressing pride in our president on this occasion.”  — Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., 2008 Republican presidential nominee

“Very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world’s attention and given its people hope for the future.”  — Nobel Committee Chairman Thorbjoern Jagland

I have a hard time imagining that the president’s own reaction to the wake-up scenario was anything short of, “Are you kidding me!?” (or words to that effect). In fact, it took him several hours to craft a response to the honor which included this qualifying statement:

“Let me be clear, I do not view it as a recognition of my own accomplishments, but rather as an affirmation of American leadership on behalf of aspirations held by people in all nations … I will accept this award as a call to action.”

How frustrating must that be?  To be honored with one of, if not the most, prestigious awards in the world, and have to curb your enthusiasm in such a profound and carefully calculated way. I’m pretty sure there were no moments of unbridled jubilation, jumping up and down, or celebratory fist pumps … One gets the sense that everyone in the White House, including the president and first lady, were stunned into slack-jawed, take-a-moment-of-silence, disbelief.  How quickly do you think the communications staff shifted into full spin mode? You can almost hear the shit hitting the wheel wells.

The Take-Away:  To his credit, Barack Obama gets it.  He gets that the Nobel Peace Prize is an extraordinary honor. And he gets that it is an honor conferred upon a group of outstanding and deserving individuals, often in recognition of an exemplary achievement or lifetime of service.  Barack Obama gets that in this case, the Nobel award is a really tricky tribute (read: unfounded and premature).  I also think that President Obama is honestly and audaciously hopeful that he can earn this rare distinction retrocatively over the course of his life’s work. For the time being, I would like to hope that the parting shot on this episode echoes the sentiment of Israeli President, Shimon Peres,

“Under [his] leadership, peace became a real and original agenda. And from Jerusalem, I am sure all the bells of engagement and understanding will ring again. [He] gave us a license to dream and act in a noble direction.” 

Pre-Ramble: Truth be told, I am not much of a baseball fan.  The games are too long, the uniforms are goofy, and the players are always spitting.  Tonight however, I found myself rallied in the family room with my family (duh) watching the hometown Minnesota Twins battle the Detroit Tigers in extra innings for the American League Central championship.

The game was supposed to be a big deal for a bunch of reasons … the Tigers had been on top for most of the season, … the Twins had been back in the standings coming into the series, … blah, blah …  It was also likely to be the very last game that the Twins played in the hideous indoor Metrodome before taking up residence in the sparkling new Target Field stadium next season. 

Well, so, the game was crawling along … pitching, catching, foul tips, more pitching and catching … and without going into a total play-by-play, the teams had leap-frogged themselves into a 12th inning overtime situation and even I was on the edge of my seat … finally:

Alexi Casilla singled Carlos Gomez home for the winning run with one out in the 12th inning and the Twins rallied for a 6-5 victory to complete a colossal collapse for the Tigers.”

Well, phew!! … Wow!! … Quite the exciting finish.  And actually, quite an exciting coincidence as well. Several months ago, I bought a piece of children’s artwork that had been created in a partnership activity with the Minnesota Twins players to support local children’s charitable organization, Free Arts Minnesota. (Free Arts brings art and adult mentorship to abused and at-risk children.) Part of the partnership activity between Free Arts and the Twins was that the kids got to go on a field trip to a batting practice (and see the players close up), go to an actual baseball game (a first for many of them), and the kids’ artwork (that was inspired by the whole baseball experience) was signed by the various Twins’ players.

I bought the picture (shown above) because I liked its composition and bright, Andy Warhol-esque blocks of color. I also bought it to support the Free Arts mission — to bring the unique healing power of art and mentorship to abused children:

I digress: There are no words to describe the profoundly tragic circumstances that some children are subjected to at the hands of the people who are supposed to love and protect them.  Some children have seen and experienced things that no child should ever have to.  The programs that Free Arts brings into homeless shelters and foster care facilities give these kids a chance to experience something else — something positive, creative, and even fun.  By providing adult mentors who care about them, who are there for them each and every week, without fail, Free Arts gives these children new hope and courage and re-establishes their capacity to trust. By providing interesting and challenging art activities, Free Arts give these children an opportunity to create something beautiful; to be recognized for their efforts and for their talents; to explore their imaginations and express themselves in a way that many of them have never been able to. The Free Arts program gives kids an opportunity to experience themselves and the world in new ways, and to see new possibilities for themselves and their lives … !

So, I have this delightful, meaningful piece of baseball artwork, and in looking a little closer after last night’s game, I realize that it is signed by Carlos Gomez — the guy who made the spectacular run across home plate to win the championship game!

The Take-Away:  Neat! … a win-win situation all around – for me, for Carlos, for the Twins, and also for the hundreds of children who are served by Free Arts.  I wonder if the kids were watching the game?

Pre-Ramble: Every year it’s the same thing.  The weather guy goes on and on about how the Leonid meteors are in our area … and how they are going to be spectacular … and how we should go to a hill top away from city lights between the hours of 1 and 4 a.m. to see their magnificence.  They wax on about how the big show is only going to be visible for a limited time (like some kind of jewel-tone sweater set sale on the QVC), … and I get all fired up thinking that THIS will be the time that I finally see a shooting star.

Sure, I’ve seen shooting stars before. Once as a child when I was at a dude ranch in Arizona, and another time when I was a guest at an awesome retreat site in Carmel, California. But, in all the years I’ve been at home during prime meteor-shower time, I’ve never seen a single blip in the stupid sky. And it’s not like I’m standing under a marquee in Uptown … I’m camped out in my suburban driveway, the nearest street light is literally four miles away. It’s got to be some kind of scam.

Speaking of seeing stars, (not the TKO kind … ), we’re heading over to Hazeltine National Golf Club tomorrow to see if we can get a glimpse of the indomitable Tiger Woods working his magic on the links. After day one, Tiger is at the top of the leader board with a 5-under par 67. For those of you non-golfers, that’s a super good score. (I’m not bragging here, but I can easily shoot that in just 9 holes.)

At least on television, Tiger Woods has a physical presence and mental focus that seem almost otherworldly. A crushingly large gallery follows him from hole to hole along with an impressive security force (you can’t have people running over and chatting him up between holes in a competitive atmosphere so strict even the click of a camera can be a distraction). 

So, this year I dragged my daughters out on the meteor-watch with me.  If I’m going to see a shooting star, I want witnesses. It’s 1:27 a.m. and the three of us are sitting there in the dark, craning our necks skyward, waiting for a speck of space dust to streak past our field of vision.

Waiting …

Waiting … (necks are hurting … )

Waiting … (kids are getting restless … )

Waiting … (I am getting restless … )

And then, after what seems like an endless string of “oh-let’s-wait-just-one-more-minute” s, … as clear as day, … in the blink of an instant, … a small fiery ball shoots across the patch of sky between the trees.

The Take-Away: !!! 

Post Note: I’ll let you know if I witness any stellar shots at the PGA tomorrow –

Pre-Ramble:  I have never featured a video in one of my blogs — it seems like cheating somehow. It seems like a short-cut on content or substance in some way… like planting your kids in front of the Disney Channel to keep them occupied while you focus your attention elsewhere.

Now, I’m not dissing the Disney Channel, or parents/caregivers who select that form of entertainment for their little charges, I’m just considering whether or not readers feel jipped when they click into their favorite blog (aw shucks) only to be unceremoniously hi-linked to some other universe.  I guess the only way that would be a good thing, is if the video or link is outstandingly amazing …

… LIKE THIS!:

This is just the greatest testament to exuberance I’ve ever seen — sweet, wacky, fun, cut-loose, authentic exuberance!  As of this writing it has over 15 million hits (that’s alot). One of the random comments on the youtube site says it best:

That was an awesome wedding entrance. I have watched this ten times and it still makes me laugh, smile, cry and hope.

The Take-Away:  I’m going to make room in my life for some of that!