What's Important

There is going to be one HECK of a football game tomorrow night.  Bama vs. LSU.  #1 vs. #2.  Probably the National Championship game.  Nick Saban vs. Les Miles.  It should be a classic.

I love football.  I love the game.  I love the competition, the athleticism, and the violent conflict that is emblematic of the human experience.  I love the fans and the game day environment.  I love the rivalries and the sportsmanship that transcends the sometimes trashy stuff that exists outside the stadium.   

Back in 1995, I was in 3-7 CAV at Ft. Stewart.  I still remember that the Squadron Chaplain was an Auburn grad (but I don't remember his name).  [If you know me, you know that I respect no one as much as the Army Chaplain.  No one is more dedicated to his mission, in more difficult situations, than the Army Chaplain.  I have sought the Chaplain's council many times in my career and have always benefited from it.]  Auburn beat Alabama that year.  The Chaplain ran into me shortly after that and asked what I thought of the game.  I said something along the lines of I didn't approve of the outcome.  He said "It's a good thing that football doesn't determine our self worth".

That's my whole point.  None of us play, or have played, football for either team.  Few of you reading this  graduated from either school.  Football is a game that we all enjoy watching, but at the end of the day, nothing real has changed, regardless of who wins or loses.  Our lives go on, unchanged, regardless of the outcome.

No matter who wins or loses, I still have a wonderful wife who loves me despite my many faults.  I still have two children who amaze me every day.  The outcome of the game will not change any of that.  If Alabama loses tomorrow and the rest of the season, or if they win out all the way to the National Championship, my baby boy and little girl will still think I hang the moon.  Either way, I'm a winner as long as I hold up my responsibilities as a good daddy.

I will be rooting my heart out for the Tide.  I will have an extra spring in my step Monday if Bama wins and I will have an extra wide smile for my VT friend who calls me an SEC prim a dona.   But win or lose, the important things remain constant.  That's what matters to me.

My Brave Little Girl

Monday, we went pumpkin picking.  We didn't go to a farm.  The farms around here have hayrides and stuff and it costs around $15 a head to go through the door.  $60 for the family is a bit pricey, so we found a place down by Burke Lake, about 20 min from here, that had pumpkins for sale and some extra activities to boot.

It was really just a house with a big backyard that they had fenced in with some chicken wire.  There was a trellis and a hand written sign that said admission $5.  We actually had to work a bit to find someone who would take our money.  We probably could have walked in at no charge.... but there's no honor in doing that.

They had a bunch of random playground stuff and homemade attractions.  They had a little pen with some goats, sheep, and rabbits, some swing-sets, a rope swing hanging from a tree, a bounce house, and a kid size zip line.

When we first got there, Jeni pointed out the zip line to Janelle.  Janelle demurred and I waved Jeni off because I didn't think it age appropriate for Janelle.  The kids went on and played on all the other stuff for nearly an hour.  The bounce house was a huge hit.  Janelle went in and out at least five times.  Joseph would get in and hold onto the side and hop up and down.  Although I thought the whole place was a liability attorney's nightmare (no outside supervision and no "spec" safety equipment) personal responsibility was evident and everyone was real nice.  People with big kids wouldn't let them go in the bounce house when Joseph was in there and, in return, I got him out in short order so their kids could go in.  Personal freedom at its best!

After a while, I noticed Janelle was down at the zip line, watching intently as other kids went down it.  Let me describe it.  It was a cable tied between two trees about 50' apart.  At the start point, there was a platform about 2' high and a ramp up to the tree about 5' off the ground.  At the top of the ramp, a kid would need to be about 4' tall to reach the handle, so about 10' off the ground.  At the bottom, the cable was about 6' above the ground, so only about a 4' drop, but it would have been a pretty good way for a little one to fall on the hard ground.

I walked up to Janelle and asked her what she was doing.  She replied matter-of-factly but with just a bit of reluctance, "I'm going to do that".  I asked if she was sure. She said, "I'm waiting for my turn".  A little boy went and then his sister.  The little boy ran back and said "I'm next".  I said nothing, and when the little girl was done, Janelle jumped up on the platform ahead of the boy.  I had planned to help her go off the platform, so it wouldn't be so big and fast, but she ran up the ramp.  I helped her up to the handle, she grabbed a firm hold, and off she went.  Of course, I followed her down, just in case.  I helped her down at the end and she was done.  She went back to the bounce house.

I'm really proud of her because I really think she was afraid to go down the zipline but she decided that she was going to do it, and by gum, she did it.  She didn't let overbearing the little boy get in her way.  She made up her mind that it was her turn, jumped up there, and went all the way.  HOOAH!

The Boys of Fall

As I was walking home from the Metro tonight, I decided to change my routine and take the Northern route. The distance is the same and I usually go south because it has fewer intersections to cross, but it was a very nice evening and I decided to take the north route for some reason. The north route takes me past Oakton High School, which is right around the corner from us, and tonight is Friday – Football Night – and the Cougars were at home. As I walked by, I saw the early arriving crowd – the cheerleaders and the band – out in the parking lot, and the kids all painted up and theme dressed for the game. As I walked along the road, the traffic was backed up trying to turn into the parking lot. The whole scene reminded me of this video. This is what it is all about – the boys of fall. Those teen-age giants of the gridiron who are living their dreams and making the memories that will last their entire lives.

If you know me, you know I played high school football for the mighty Sardis Lions. I was a 6’1”, 185 lb. Offensive Tackle and part time Defensive Noseguard. I was an average player that survived on want-to and heart, because lord knows I didn’t have any talent. I was really too small to be a lineman but too slow to be a receiver or a back, so they made me a lineman by default. Every sentiment Kenny Chesney expresses in the video is exactly correct. The sense of immortality on Fridays, the nervousness before the games, the emotion, the brotherhood, everything…… he nails it. The guys in the stands may have enjoyed the games and they may have fond memories of Friday football, but it isn’t anywhere near the same. You can’t understand it unless you played the game; unless you were a “boy of fall”.

Cheering in the stands is no substitute for hurting and bleeding on the field with your brothers in pads, and it’s not just game day. It’s also the summer workouts, the spring training, and the daily practices. I still bear a scar that Tracey Norton gave me one day when his facemask got up under my shoulder pads and peeled up a big piece of skin. I remember being an aspiring junior working hard for playing time and being so sore everyday that I wondered if I would ever go to sleep at night without hurting. I remember sucking sweat out of the collar of my practice jersey for hydration during an especially hard practice. I remember standing in the field house parking lot after practice my senior year just trying to soak it up because I knew in a few weeks it would all be over and I'd never have it again.

A miniscule number of high school football players will ever play in college and an even more miniscule number of them will make the pros, but for the rest of us, the value of the experience is priceless. The lessons and values I learned playing high school football have served me well in the last 20 years and I will take the memories of my high school football days to my grave. The friends I made on the gridiron can always count on me when the going gets tough and they need a real friend.

Proselytizing at the Metro

If you know me, you know one of my favorite topics is the trials and oddities I encounter on the DC Metro.  I don't see too much proselytizing around the Metro station, at least in Vienna, but I do from time to time and it can be interesting.  There are the occasional Mormon missionaries that stand politely outside the station in their black slacks and their white shirts and their hard plastic name tags that say, "I'm a Mormon Missionary".  They don't really say that, of course, but they do say something close, like "Brother John Smith, Church of Latter Day Saints" and everyone knows who they are.  They never speak to me.  I guess its because I have the hardened look of a guy who lived amongst them for 2 1/2 years in Southeastern Idaho and resisted the pull of Mormonism.  Don't get me wrong, I like Mormons.  They are good people and make good neighbors.  Heck, I'll even hold my nose (because of his politics, not his religion) and vote for Mitt Romney if he gets the nomination, but the LDS Church isn't for me.

The odd ones aren't so obvious.  They blend in the crowd and jump out on unsuspecting, friendly looking people.  A few weeks ago I had driven to the station that day, and that evening I was walking to the garage to get in my truck.  This rather young black lady, with an interesting island kind of accent, said "excuse me".  I though she might need directions, or help with a bus or something, so I stopped.  She asked me if I believed in God.  I said yes.  She then started telling me how God, or at least the one with the real Heavenly power, is a woman.  She said that God begot Jesus (we know this from John 3:16) and God couldn't have begot Jesus without a woman (she had a point) and Jesus' mother is our "Mother God".  (I'm not being heretical here.  I'm just reporting the story)  She even knew what her name is because it is in the Bible.  At this point, I'm looking for the mother ship to drop out of the sky to pick this young lady up.  She goes on to explain that Jesus will return some day and all the believers will be born again.  You all may think that the Bible says we should all be born again of water and spirit (John 3:4-6) but, according to this young lady, Jesus will return with his bride and all believers will literally be born again by the wife of Jesus to repopulate the earth.  To quote Jerry Clower, If I'm lying, dying.  As a buddy of mine used to say, I'm not talented enough to make this stuff up.  I finally said something along the lines of nice talking to you, have a nice day, I have to get home.

Just today, a young man in a suit and tie approached me as I was headed into the station and asked if I had heard about the passover.  I said yes and he asked if I wanted to learn more.  I said that I had to get to the train.  He walked with me.  He was telling me how there is a passover in the Bible and it will save us.  Now, he's talking about 100 miles a minute and gesturing with his hands because he only has about 30 yards before we hit the fare gate and he has to pay to go further.  He tells me that this passover is hard to understand because it is written in parables, but it won't only save us from our sins but it will also save us from natural disasters on earth.  Now, for most of us, salvation from our sins is the greatest hope we have and my Bible teaches me in Matt 10:28 "And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.", but apparently the little earthquake last month had a lasting effect on this guy. He kept trying to emphasize that his passover would save us from natural disasters... and don't you want that, don't you want to be safe from natural disasters? When we got to the fare gate he asked me if I would at least take his name and number. I agreed, because there is a trashcan at the bottom of the escalator, and if it makes him feel better...........

I guess that's the penalty I pay for commuting in my uniform. Every bum, beggar, and weirdo knows that a man in uniform will at least be polite enough not to physically assault them if they approach them. Anyway, they make good stories and maybe you'll get a laugh....

Uniform Hokey Pokey

At the most recent Army birthday ball, the Sergeant Major of the Army (SMA) announced that the Army would do away with the beret (that black wool rag that has less than zero utility as a hat) and return to the old fashioned patrol cap (the one that is a real cap, with a bill that keeps the sun and rain off your face) for the Army Combat Uniform (ACU - the funny looking camouflage uniform most soldiers wear every day).  He got a standing ovation.  Then a few days later, the 37th Chief of Staff of the Army (CSA) made it policy that, starting on October 1st, every soldier in the Pentagon would start wearing the Army Service Uniform (ASU - the new blue version of "dress greens") as the daily duty uniform.  First, every soldier in the Pentagon said, "crap, we still wear the beret with that uniform".  Then a gold rush of sorts started as everyone went out to get multiple pairs of pants and shirts, a second pair of shoes and all the accessories they'd never bought because you only wear that uniform once in a blue moon.  The clothing sales stores at the Pentagon, Ft. Meyer, and Ft. Belvoir have been totally picked over and all the popular sizes have been gone for weeks.  Add to that the fact that AAFES is short on many items system wide and the situation is starting to get a little desperate, now that October 1st is just around the corner.

As you probably know, almost as soon as the 37th took the job as CSA, he left to be Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  Well, today the 38th CSA signed out a memo that said we will still wear the ASU to work - but only on Fridays.  First, there was a collective sigh of relief.  Then, there was a collective realization that we'd all just spent all that cash to buy the new stuff that we won't be needing now and the pants are all hemmed and the shirts are all laundered and pressed, so they can't be returned.  Oh well, I guess I'll need all that stuff eventually and I'd rather it hang in the closet than wear it. 

The Iron Dog

This is the legendary Iron Dog at Richmond's Hollywood Cemetery.  The dog stands in eternal vigilance over a little girl who died in 1856.  The legend has it that the dog was a fixture in front of a Richmond drug store and the little girl loved to go there and see the dog climb on it... she just loved it to pieces... you know little girls can be.  Sadly, she passed at a very young age.  A few years later, with the Civil War looming, her daddy was afraid the dog would be taken away and melted down for the metal, and he couldn't bear to see the thing his daughter loved so much just go away, so he bought it from the drug store and moved it to the cemetery.  Now the iron dog she so enjoyed in life guards her eternal resting place.

More adventures with Granny and Granddaddy

Jeni had the great idea that today would be a good day to go to Great Falls State Park for a picnic.  I was a bit skeptical with the cool, rainy weather lately but it turned out to be a great day.  Great Falls is a state park along the Potomac River, on the Virginia side, at the "Great Falls".  I reset the trip meter after we filled up the van at our local gas station ($57 - ouch!) and it was on 13.7 when we left the park.  As an interesting aside, there was also some kind of international picnic going on.  I don't know if it was some kind of State Department deal, or what but of the groups we could positively identify, there were Brits, Germans, Russians (or Russian speakers, anyway), Moroccans, and from what I could see of their flag, either Hungarians or Tajikistanis.  I found this great world flag reference while trying to figure that one out. 

It was maybe 1/4 mile from the car to the overlook area.  Joseph pulled me last 100 yards or so, saying "waterfall, waterfall, waterfall."

The Great Falls.  I guess great is in the eyes of the beholder.  Its ok, but it's certainly no Shoshone Falls.

We had to pull Joseph away from the overlook.  He kept running back to look at the water.

Janelle also enjoyed it.

And plenty of rocks, leaves, and trees to occupy little hands and minds.

This is interesting (at least to me).  This pole marks the high water mark, since the '30s when they started measuring.  Now, this is in the picnic area, back behind where the pictures of the falls were made, so it is way above the water.

And, eventually we got to eat.  Jeni made custom sandwiches for everybody.  Ham and cheese on wheat for her and Granny, grilled cheese for the kids, and fried bologna for me and Granddaddy.

As an interesting aside, Great Falls Park fronts on Georgetown Pike.  There are houses like this all along there.  Go down to the bottom of the Zillow page and there is a map you can move around and see the estimated value of the homes along there.