Random Thoughts on Life and Death

Today I ran. It was warmer today and much more humid. The haze resembled fog and seemed to soften and quiet the normal early morning sounds. I ran hard and the sound of my breathing and the feel of the street hypnotized me as I went along my route. When I got home, I walked my geriatric dog. He has been falling more and more lately and has lost most all control of his bowels. I find him more and more on the floor, helpless to stand, with piles of poop around him. He often gets it all over him and I have to clean him and the floor. I think about when he was a puppy, full of life, bright eyes and coil springs for legs. Now his hind leg muscles have withered and he stands as a wobbly old man.



Then I watered my plants. The annuals are beginning to show their age. Mother nature exacts her price. What were once thriving, lush plants have grown spindly and have shriveled some. Their blooms are but a shadow of their earlier glory only a month or so back. Soon the fall annuals will appear in the garden centers and these plants will be replaced with new ones. It has been this way for many seasons. Everything has its time; its glory and everything will die.



I thought of the sadness and waste of death. A man spends his whole life learning, growing, building, and relating. Then, all of a sudden, it is over. My grandfather was a skilled mechanic. He could fix just about anything. He had a sense of humor. But he died and all of that knowledge went to the grave with him.



Death is the element of danger, the consequence, the due date, if you will. If it were not for death, we would have no challenge or incentive. We are given a measure of time. We know that time is limited so we do not sit on our rear ends or if we do we never accomplish anything. Life is not fair, but it is pretty predictable. There is a time to learn, a time to live and develop, a time to share and pass on what we learned, and a time to leave. We will all die. Death, however, is not as tragic as an unlived life. Some never live because of fear or self-consciousness. Some never live because of anger and resentment. "The soul afraid of dying never learns to live." A life can be wasted on addictions like drugs or alcohol. Life is surrendered to the pursuit of a feeling one's actions only make more impossible to obtain. Freedom comes from surrender. True wealth arises from letting go. Attachments imprison us. Have you ever felt that your possessions really possess you?



Somewhere there is a new puppy full of life with bright eyes. He has coil springs for legs and he will carry the torch Hobo lays down. My grandfather passed on a lot of himself to his loved ones who have handed it off to others who would listen. This is how we live on. Our influence proceeds our departure. Life will go on, if we live the right way, it will go on better.



Until the next time

John Strain

Hold That Tiger

Last fall my son entered college. He commuted to Southeastern Louisiana University about 25 miles away. It seemed like another year of high school, because John still lived at home. This year he has transferred to Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, which is about an hour west of here. He will live in an apartment near the school. He is moving out of the house. Friday will be the day we move him up there. Both Barbara and I are braced for some feelings we can only imagine on this side of his leaving.



I go around in circles with my thinking. On one hand, I tell myself "he is only an hour away, we'll see him a lot." On the other hand I realize he is still moving out even if it were just next door. This is another transition, another milestone. I am proud and sad all at the same time. My son is closer to being a man, a little less dependent, but will be a little scarcer.



I can ring him up on the cell phone anytime. He will come home on some weekends, but he will be gone through the week. The house will be quieter, because when John was home so was about 3 or 4 other friends. The house will be neater, because when John was home he never quite reached our standards of keeping things neat - except in his own room.



The things we complained about, we will probably long for. Well enough about my feelings, John is embarking on a lot of fun. I am so glad he has the opportunity to move out and begin to get a taste of what it is like taking care of one’s self 24 hours a day.



LSU's campus is pretty. The football games are packed with tradition. He is a part of something he will never forget. I think back to my college days and they seem but a moment ago, now I will observe my son as he lives his.



LSU's fight song is "Hold that tiger." I am thinking, "hold that clock." The seconds are ticking away too quickly. The procession of life, however, slows for no one; therefore, I will savor the moments and enjoy the times I am in rather than lament times past or to long for things that may never be.



I am about to experience the empty nest. If I think about my loss I will be sad. If I think about my son's achievements and opportunities however, I shall be proud and grateful. Parenting will never stop - it continues to be a dance of "letting go" and engaging when needed. But most of all, it is really fun.



Until the next time

John Strain

Garage Sale

I must be living right. We decided to have a garage sale two weeks ago. It had been ten years since our first and last garage sale. I vaguely remember making a mental note at that time never to have another garage sale. Something about a lot of work and hassle. A confluence of circumstances tipped the scales and we decided to go for it again. The circumstances being: encouragement from HGTV, lots of clutter, several large and superfluous furniture items, a need for some cash, and latent masochistic tendencies. Our garage sale satiated each of these needs.



In the beginning, I had my doubts. We were quite unorganized about the whole thing. The house looked as if we were moving. We essentially went through every drawer, pile, and closet to find items to liquidate. In addition, I went through our shed and attic. It is astonishing to see all of the junk one acquires over time. So much junk we haven't used in years. It is too good to throw out or give away, we tell ourselves, so it piles up. I am rethinking how I think about material goods.



Friday, I took off work at noon to prepare for the sale. John had his instructions to mow the lawn that AM. The day before, I had done the weed eating so the yard was looking good. I had also phoned in an ad to the newspaper for the garage sale section. To further advertise, we got some bright red poster board and made four signs which were strategically placed on busy nearby roads. That was the extent of our marketing efforts.



The rest of Friday, I fashioned tables out of saw horses and plywood, turned upside down trash cans and an old door and asundry contraptions to make a flat surface above ground level. I hung a couple of pipes along the side of our carport for hanging clothes. John and I both bumped our heads on the damn thing at least 8 times each. It hung at the perfect height to walk in to. John really nailed himself once. He had to take a standing "8 count" but was able to continue. It provided some laughs. There would be the unmistakable thump of a head hitting the pipe and the lasting metallic reverberation followed by a smattering of curse words under one's breath. The one who's head had not just hit the pipe laughed having just tasted the wrath of the pipe only moments earlier.



I carried out the two desks I was going to sell and cleaned them up along with the book shelves. Everything was ready for stocking which we would do early in the morning. The weather had turned off unseasonably cool. It was incredibly fall like. Louisiana August is typically HOT, but we were experiencing highs of 80 degrees and low humidity. We could not have asked for a more lovely day for the garage sale.



Saturday morning we were up at 5:00 AM and began covering my make shift tables with sheets then the merchandise in the pre dawn dark. It all came together quick and we only had one person show up super early - 6:30 AM, but we were ready. The sale was to begin at 8:00 AM, but our busiest hour was from 7:00 - 8:00 AM. Because I anticipated this, I was not upset - you can't change hard core garage salers.



Until noon it was a spectacle of the human race. All kinds of people paraded by us. Most gave us a few dollars for items we wanted to be rid of. We saw some people we had not seen in a long time, talked with some neighbors we had not talked with in a while, and met a whole bunch of new people. The people part was fun.



As for the goods, I had already decided nothing was going back into the house. What we did not sell was going to Goodwill. I sold all of the big stuff and lots of other things. All together, we made $450 and John sold $250 worth of his things. I also have a set of tires someone is interested in and that will bring in another $250. So, I am declaring our garage sale a thundering success. It took a lot of the day to clean up the yard and put everything back. Even after I took down the pipe I hung the clothes on I found myself ducking any time I got near the area. Even a day later, I had the urge to duck. Too late now, my forehead bears the lumps of a pipe beating for not ducking sooner.



Goodwill still got a pickup truck full of items. We made some money and our house is a bit emptier. Phase one of the declutter project is complete. Now I need to rearrange and declutter some more. It was not as bad as I dreaded. In a lot of ways it was fun. Life is like that some times. The things we dread turn out to be fun and some things we had looked forward to turn out to be disasters. This was a pleasant surprise.



Until the next time

John Strain

Dream Team?

Sunday Puerto Rico beat the United States so called "dream team" by 19 points. The US men hit 3 of 24 from the three point line and demonstrated a lack of fundamentals as they were soundly thrashed by a group of men who played as one.



Usually in the Olympics my national pride is priority, but in the case of this basketball team, I am not that upset. In many ways, I am embarrassed these men represent my country. Here are a few reasons.



• The dream team is not a team at all but a collection of high maintenance egos.

• The dream team emphasizes athleticism above a fundamental mastering of the game.

• Individual egos come before national pride and a respect for the Olympics.



The US squad was beaten at their own game. For some time, American coaches have been going to Europe and around the world to install basketball programs. They worked with children and developed a generation of kids who were taught the fundamentals of the game. They learned team play and experienced levels of competition previously only available in the United States. As a result, the elite NCAA teams and the NBA have rosters well represented with international players.



What is being exposed is the player who does not work hard, who has not perfected the fundamentals, and who does not take the game seriously. For too long, someone who has athletic ability has gotten by. The gorilla dunks and show boat plays have amazed crowds and dominated the game in the states. This kind of play has had an effect on the younger kids in the US. Instead of practicing how to dribble with both hands, the proper way to pass a ball, shooting fouls, and other fundamentals, they have worked at trying to dunk the ball and how to do other tricks. It has become more important how one looks than how one plays. I suppose on playgrounds and on prison recreation courts that stuff is important, but now it is being exposed for what it is, a bunch of hot dog show boating.



The US team still has a chance to win a medal, but it will be tough. If they do, they will have to drop the individual ego trips and trade them in for some team spirit and national pride. Personally, I do not think it is in them. They lack a hunger - no - they lack a mind set. Their priorities are all wrong for the Olympics. The NBA is all about making millions of dollars just because you can jump high and throw a ball in an iron rim. For that skill one is given big houses, celebrity status, women. Big babies are created. Look at the results - Dennis Rodman is a freak, Kobe Bryant represents many who feel entitled to screw anything they want, Latrell Spreewell assaults his coach and is allowed to stay in the game. I know the players are not the only ones to blame. As long as people spend their entertainment dollars the monsters will be produced as fast as Dr. Frankenstein can mine big egos and selfish attitudes.



At least now in the Olympics, the values of hard work and enthusiasm are being vindicated. The game is not to the tallest man who can dunk a ball, the game goes to the man who names himself among other men. He melts into the group and they play as one. They work hard and perfect fundamental skills. They learn subtle nuances of the game to gain an edge. They play for the love of the game because they realize they are guardians of it to take it a few years down the road. When the game is in the Olympics, they play for all of this and for the privilege to play for their country. I do not think our "dream team" has the faintest notion about what this paragraph means and that's a damn shame.



So as much as I hate to see the US lose I like to see the values I previously mentioned affirmed. The Olympics are more about an attitude of which the US dream team has no clue.



Box Score



Until the next time

John Strain

Weekend Replay: The "B" Word

Here is another golden moment between a father and a son. If you prefer the text version click here.

Until the next time,

John Strain