Sunday, February 7, 2010
This is my brief, abbreviated history with Football.
As a kid, Sunoco (or was it Shell) gas stations gave you free NFL stamps with a fill-up. There was a book you could put them in and it was very big deal at my elementary school. I didn't know who any of the players were except for a handful of Cincinnati Bengals (including Mike Reid who wrote songs and recorded them at a studio up the street from our apartment - he still writes and won a Grammy for "I can't make you love me" for Bonnie Raitt) .My Dad was not a big football fan, we never went to a single game, plenty of Baseball and even hockey).
My Dad taught me Baseball.
My Brother taught me Football. I was shocked to discover that I could throw a pretty good spiral, even with small hands. Still have to say I preferred the Nurf football, who didn't, you could throw that sucker for a mile.
My brother is older and his friends were tough kids. We didn't go to the local Catholic school, but some of his friends did. They had a Football team, our school didn't. He went out for it. Probably would have been killer too, but my Dad got wind that the coach was using "foul language" with the kids (5th -6th graders) and pulled him out.
So we both played Basketball for the Cheviot Police assoc. Teams (Blue and white CPA uniforms). We had played Baseball for CFA (Fire assoc, red uniforms.), that was a big rivalry. Well, my brother Played, and, well. I wore the uniforms, went to the practices, got in the team photos, played a total of 7 minutes - that's 2 seasons on baseball and one of basketball combined. I'm cool with this, I sucked. Still and all, glad I did it.
So I did not dream of a pro sports career. I dreamed of what I do. And statistically, I guess the odds of playing pro sports are about the same as starring in 5 Broadway shows. I wouldn't mind getting their salaries. Who wouldn't, right?
Shortly after my Mom and Dad split in the 70's, I moved in with my Dad. I remember he took me to a super bowl party. it was a blast. Mainly because I'd never been to one. It had to be Steelers/Cowboys 1979 - I don't remember, I looked it up. It was all his friends, I was the youngest one there.
I think that's it. My entire history with football. Except, this year I'm gonna watch.
Not really sure why. Not really sure why I've seen so few, I really like Football. It's by far the best sport to televise, TV makes it a true coliseum event. And The Saints? Come on, talk about taking the long way, gotta see that. But mainly - this has felt like a long cold winter. I need to be part of the event, to help break it up. So Yeah, I'm excited. Go Saints.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Monday - woke up in New Jersey. Went to bed in Arizona.
Tuesday - Woke up in Arizona. Went to bed in New Jersey.
This is certainly not the most travel I've done in less than 2 days before, but for some reason it really struck me this time about the miracle of the age we live in, that such things are possible. Something about travel always widens my belief in all the possibilities. More so than when I'm at home. Home feels to me to be about shrinking the world down, focusing on what's closest, family, health, finance, maintaining or improving the home to be more of a reflection of us. I even feel guilty relaxing at home, because it is so closely connected in my mind as an extension of the self.
This should make home the place where my mind is at peace. But it's quite the opposite.
Away, I see all I've achieved and all that is possible.
At home, I see all the work that needs to be done.
But when I look beyond home as the self, I see my wife, my kids. I see in them how much they've grown, changed, enriched their lives and mine. I see in them all that is possible.
my meditation for today is to merge these ideals. To know that, in my own home, all the same possibilities exist. That the world is just as large, just as connected, just as miraculous as seen from my living room as is seen from the desert. or from 35,000 feet