The Learning Bee

   I remember it like it was yesterday.  My little girl strolled into the sanctuary at her private Lutheran school with bright eyes, curly hair flowing, and cute as a button in her school uniform. She wore a long-sleeve pink polo under a navy blue jumper. It was roughly 8:45 am. I sat there silently and anxiously awaiting her first semi-public spelling bee.  I brimmed with pride either way.  I never made it to such a stage, though I viewed myself as a historically-excellent speller, my talents were never put on display like this.  I was impressed as the kid rattled off correct spellings of words at each trip to the microphone.  I hadn't prepared myself for a positive or negative outcome - I just wanted to be there; to be a cheerleader, win or lose. A relatively shy kid, she had never been in this position. Her mom and I agreed that someone should be there, and I was glad to be the one.
   It seemed like a dramatic last second-shot.  Swish! She spelled the qualifying word correctly and won the Second Grade spelling bee!  She smiled wide. She even got a medal. She was so happy to run over and show me once she realized I had been there to see.  I'll never forget that hug. Life at that moment was absolutely perfect.  My beautiful, tall, intelligent, seven-year-old daughter was on top of the world.  She would get her picture in the newspaper, and lots of phone calls from proud grandparents, aunts and uncles.
   One year later, things are different.  Her mother and I have divorced, and alternate weekends with our daughter.  Instead of getting to wish her luck in the bee before school, I would receive a reminder text message from her mother asking if I was going.
   I slipped into the sanctuary a few minutes before the start and took a seat in the back.  I sat quietly and sipped my coffee as I waited for the third-graders' turn. After the practice round, it was Faith's turn to spell her first word.  I remember thinking to myself as the proctor used the word in a sentence, "You got this, kid. This word is easy for you."  I overheard the judges deem it a correct spelling, and Faith happily bounced back to her seat waiting for her next turn.
   Today, her hair was pulled back in a french braid neatly and tightly.  Taller and prettier than the last time we were here, but I was just as proud and anxious. She also wore a pink, long-sleeve polo but this time, tucked into khaki pants.  Her face was bright and optimistic.
   As she stood for her next turn, that same confidence washed over me. "Fourth," said the proctor.  "Next year, you will be in the fourth grade. Fourth."  Another easy one. As Faith stated the word, and spelled it out, I felt it. I knew what happened.  When she heard the word, her eager little brain began working instead of listening to the tense and context of the proctor's use in a sentence. "Forth. F-O-R-T-H. Forth."
  She didn't react.  She simply left the stage, and sat with the members of her class that hadn't been in the competition.  I was a little sad for her.  I knew that she had high expectations of herself based on last year's win.  I also believe that she felt others had those same expectations.  And just like that, she was back to being a normal kid.  No longer the spelling bee champ.  She seemed okay as she sat quietly. It would be another half an hour or so before all of the grades had determined their winners.
  I knew that she was unaware that I was there.  There had been no eye contact, and she always waves when she knows I'm there.  As the students were dismissed to their classrooms, I caught her attention.  I hadn't seen her for a couple of days, and I wanted a hug and to offer a kind word for the rest of her day and make sure she wasn't too upset.
   Instead of a smile, her sweet face began to frown and sob as she detoured right into my lap.  I squeezed her tightly when she dove into my arms.  She buried her face into my shoulder, soaking the fleece with tears.  I said "It's ok, Faith. Don't cry. You did great to even qualify as a finalist."  She continued to cry softly.  I rubbed her back.
   I adjusted her so I could see her face, and assured her that I was still proud of her, that her mother would still be proud of her.  I wiped her tears and searched my soul for the right thing to say as the sobbing continued. Nothing tugs at my heart more than tears in my daughter's eyes. Her sadness mixed with humiliation as she responded, "I didn't even want to be in it. I wanted to fake sick and miss school today."
   Right then I knew that we were at a very critical moment. Many of us recognize these moments as "teachable moments," instances where a character is either built or neglected. I took her little wet face in my hands and told her "Faith, God has blessed you with a gift. You're way to smart to not participate. It is wrong to not use it. You can't keep it to yourself."  I could tell that she understood what I was saying. She quieted down, and became a bit ashamed of her reaction.  With her head down and shoulders slouched, I could tell that she was still embarrassed for missing the word. She was reluctant to come out of her funk right away.
   At that, a quote popped into my head.  I believe college basketball coach Rick Pitino said, "Lose the game, but don't lose the lesson."  So I tried to frame my next words into encouragement and consolation. I explained to Faith that she spelled the word correctly, but it was the wrong word, and that next time she needed to listen to the sentence, be patient and take her time instead of "pre-spelling" the wrong word in her head while the word was still being given.  She hugged me. She didn't want me to leave. Neither did I. I could've sat in that pew, holding her until I knew for sure that she wasn't sad or disappointed anymore.
  I knew the initial sadness and frustration she felt was going away. We stood up, and I escorted her out of the sanctuary.  I knew that this was one of those "necessary losses."  Like an undefeated team losing a game they have no business losing, I felt us both grow and learn something.  Who knew that a misspelled word could teach so much?
  I learned that despite a new address, I'm still her dad. I'm not a part-time playmate, baby-sitter or shopping buddy.  I learned that not being able to make her breakfast and pack her lunch everyday doesn't mean I'm less important.
  On a day that my bank account was an absolute mess, and had a ton of work waiting for me at my office, a missing "U" totally shook my world. One missing letter not only shaped my day, but left me closer to my child and more confident in our relationship. A true teachable moment.

I typically try not to touch on controversial topics.  One thing I've learned during my career in sales is to stay away from religion and politics. You're bound to upset someone, and cost yourself business.  However, this is my blog and I'll blog what I want to.


Yes, this is America. Yes, Americans have rights.  For example, a black man has the right to run for president. And win.  He also has the right to not screw up the possibility of other black people being elected to office by being controversial.  Controversy is for Hollywood, not the Oval Office.  


Religious freedom is a Constitutional right in this country. So is peaceable assembly.  But this issue raises two questions in my head.

1. With the knowledge of the significance of the Ground Zero and surrounding blocks, why would any Muslim want to establish a place of worship there?
2. Why did Obama say anything at all?

Expressing any sort of support for a group that shoulders the blame for one of the most-heinous acts in American history nearly assures that there will not be a second term of the Obama Administration.  Appearing insensitive to the American people on such a hot-button issue was a bad move, even if it is upholding the Constitution. 


Sometimes political correctness and diplomacy are the easy way out.  I believe that there was a diplomatic and politically correct way to address the issue since he felt the need to make a statement.  I agree that Muslims have a right to worship, but is it safe to worship there? On that block? On that street?


The struggling economy isn't his fault.  The fledgling housing market, the unemployment rate, the war (are they still looking for bin Laden?), not his fault. It will take a lot to get these issues corrected. He knew that before he took office. He had a plan, a goal, a vision to take steps to get America back where it once was. He knew there would difficulties convincing the public as well as other politicians of his policies. Misguided statements on controversial issues like this just add momentum to his plummeting approval rating, and I can guarantee that this topic will resurface at election time.

The King of His Castle? Apparently Not In The Throne Room.

I normally don't require much time in the bathroom. A few minutes to shower and a few more minutes to shave and I'm done.  The size of our home's lonesome bathroom doesn't suit more than one person very comfortably. And my wife... well, let's just say it's a good thing I don't need "the good light" in the bathroom very often. 

Every two weeks I need some time in the mirror to cut my hair.  I taught myself how to face backward in the bathroom mirror while holding a hand mirror and not slice off an ear.  My hair cuts are just about the only place I'm frugal. I refuse to pay $15 when I can (evidently) do it myself.

Most of the time, there is enough time right before she wakes up to cut my hair and shower before she needs to commandeer the facilities. This particular day, I allowed her to shower first.  I figured that I could get the kid's breakfast and lunch made during the time she took to shower and put her face on. I had assumed she was done, and as I glanced at the clock, I concluded that I could still give myself a trim and get out of the house on time.

Shortly after the clippers start buzzing, my lovely little daughter prances in with a high-pitched "G'mornin' Daddy," and perches herself on the toilet. I didn't think much of it, it's 7:30am who doesn't need to go first thing in the morning?

As I was shearing my head, my nose began to detect a tang in the air.  It took a minute or so for my brain to diagnose what was happening...

"Air you poopin," I questioned in a shocked and despaired tone.  "Yes," she replied with undeniable cuteness.  I couldn't help but feel a bit disrespected.  Do I barge in during her bath tub time? Does she get strong-armed while she's brushing her teeth?  I can't have 10 minutes? I peeked over at her. She smiled, and of course I smiled back. "Oh well," I thought. I used to change the kid's diapers, and soon things wouldn't so familiar. Before long she'll be a tweenager sassing me out the door.

Just as Faith is finishing up, Julie strolls in, excuses herself past me and starts rummaging in one of the drawers of the vanity.  I wasn't paying much attention to the commotion because I was making sure that my 'do was even.  Soon, we're shoulder-to-shoulder, jockeying for mirror space.

Our bathroom mirror is actually a cabinet with three vertical glass doors.  I started out using the middle one, but magically found myself crammed against the wall using the one on the right as my beautiful wife's flying elbows created a perimeter and staking claim to 66% of the available mirror space.

I mentioned to her that I was nearly done, and the mirror would be hers, but she insisted that she was nearly done as well.  My statement of initial occupation of the facilities fell on deaf ears.

It was at this moment that I realized the pecking order in my house.  I knew that I was outnumbered. Living with a wife and daughter would often cause my manly instincts to be compromised on occasion. But during a hair cut?!  I was essentially ignored on this particular day.  Well, maybe not ignored, but I was literally pushed aside.  Let's see how quickly I spring into action next time a bug needs squashed or a jar needs opened.

USA Track & Field To Replace Livestrong?

I'm a former track guy.  I ran track during all four years of high school. I barely missed qualifying for the state meet during my sophomore year in the triple jump, but qualified in my last two years and was named all-state during my senior year.  I used to watch meets on television, and I always tuned in during the Olympics.

I was reading a recent copy of the Sports Business Journal and I noticed an article highlighting some soon-to-be released limited-edition shoes geared toward increasing revenue for USA Track & Field (USATF).  According to the article, the shoe will commemorate 30 years since USATF's initial organization.

There will be approximately 800 (500 men's and 300 women's) pair available online for $95, and USATF wants to sell them all.

The director of operations says they want to release one or two per year over the next couple of years n order to increase revenue.  Merchandise revenue has already expanded from about $30000 in 2002 to over $1 million in 2009, which is expected to double this year.  It is estimated that revenue should swell to $10 million by 2016.

I'm also a sneaker fiend.  Though I don't get to satisfy my thirst like I used to, I can at least admire the style and technology of a great pair of kicks.  These shoes seem to employ some pretty bright colors, which I'm not such a huge fan of, but the simple and classic styling
is pretty hot.

I'm sure these will be big sellers. This initiative could do wonders for American track and field athletes.  Bringing track and field into the mainstream and blending it with pop culture is sure to take some of the pressure off Lance Armstrong.  If he is discovered to have been cheating, Nike and the Livestrong campaign will undoubtedly part ways.

May Is Nearly Over. It Might Be Time To Panic.

Cardinals Baseball means different things to different people.  Some St. Louisans just want to be able to be seen at the stadium or at Hrabosky's Saloon.  These are your socialite fans. Going to a game is more of a social outing with red, white and navy blue coordinated outfits.  They don't care how Carp's pitching, how Yadi is hitting, or what the record is as long as there's a game to dress up for...

Some of us slightly rabid fans that simply want the Cardinals to win because Cardinals Baseball is an endearing part of your childhood, and you admire the history and prestige of the franchise, the abundance of great ball players that have graced this city, the skill it takes to play the game, and the bragging rights over every other so-called "baseball town" in America.  The way the game is played now is much different from the days of Ozzie Smith, Vince Coleman and Willie McGee (who deserves to have his #51 retired, by the way), and you've come to accept it.

Today's game is more about power, and less about speed and base-running prowess.  This shift is the reason that Matt Holliday was re-signed (and overpaid) for seven years and $120 million.  Let's look at this year's numbers for Holliday:

	G	AB	R	H	TB	2B	3B	HR	RBI	BB		SO	SB		AVG
	45	172	25	48	76	13	0	5	18	14		30	3		.279

These numbers aren't totally rotten... if you don't make $17 million a year... with the St. Louis Cardinals.  I realize that these guys are human, with human tendencies and lives outside of baseball.  However, contracts of that size, from this franchise come with tremendous expectations.  One home run every nine games is not the production that this lineup requires for success.  But it's not all his fault.

We've all gotten used to Albert Pujols being Albert Pujols. His numbers don't stink either, but over the past 10 games, Phat Albert has 0 home runs and 0 RBIs in 34 at-bats.  He has been the picture of consistency over the past nine or 10 seasons, so he's allowed to slump a bit.  My concern is that there's an injury that he's hiding while playing through pain and discomfort.

We're about to reach June.  Most of the time, I don't panic about where our team is at this time of the season... most of the time.  This season is different.  Given the aforementioned Holliday contract, and the fact that we've got a starting pitcher going on the DL and the fact that Pujols's contract will be an issue at the season's end, and the fact that the team is under-performing concerns me.  In fact, if the Cardinals don't win the series this weekend against the Cubs, I'll be in full-blown panic.

My fear is that this team will fall far-short of its own goals and the expectations of its fans, and have to endure a bidding war for a possibly-injured, possibly-declining Pujols while over-paying for a possibly-declining Holliday.  


And lost in all of this mess is the fact that Mark McGuire has re-joined the organization in a coaching capacity. I'm not sure how good of a hitting coach he is, but he seems to be a good scapegoat at this point.


Regardless of who's at fault, or what needs to be fixed, or tweaked, or whatever, they'd better start winning.  Now.

A Spirituality Check

I have experienced an incredible run of divine blessings recently, and I feel like my spiritual relationship with the Almighty is growing exponentially each day.  In light of the blessings I've received, I have made (and am still making) a conscious effort to release ill will and residual grudges against those that have wronged me in the past. 

I called a friend to apologize for my role in a recent disagreement that left us not speaking for months. He didn't answer, so I left a message.  I'm not professing any new found holiness, just that I'm trying to walk the talk.  I hope that my sincere apology helps to heal a fractured friendship.  I felt good to make such an effort.  I decided to move down to the number two item on my list...

The Bible says that we should pray for our enemies, so I decided to take some time to speak to God about my worst sworn enemy.  Just as I'm sure there were people that prayed for Jack the Ripper, I would pray for the IRS.  Instead of simply asking to have my year-long issue resolved, I would ask for a fair and just decision from those responsible for evaluating every nook and cranny of my 2006 earnings.  I definitely wouldn't pray any harm upon them.

As I readied my words, I thought of the unambiguousness of The Good Book and how good it felt to be at such spiritual peace.  But I thought more... God's Word is unambiguous, but the IRS is quite ambiguous.  Hmmm... A government agency that's existence alone is unconstitutional.  So if I pray for an agency, its employees and the directives of said agency, would I then be praying against the Constitution? 

What a can of worms... By praying for the IRS and the binding amendments of the Constitution, wouldn't I be somehow praying for the demise of the IRS?  After all, I would also pray to be the last American to feel bullied and pillaged by Doug Shulman and the other thieves IRS staff.

(IRS Commissioner, Doug Shulman likes likes poetry, long walks and legal racketeering)

I felt conflicted.  I suppose I have more growing to do.  I clearly haven't healed of my negative feelings regarding the aftermath of being audited.  I am definitely in need of a lot more grace as well as some (more) patience.

X's and O's, Or Jons and Joes?

You all know that I'm a sports fan(atic).  Now that I am an intern at a sports talk station, it feels like my habit is being encouraged!  It's like giving an alcoholic a job at a brewery - I get to be around it, but I don't get to interact with it.

For the few hours I'm there, I get to listen to the personalities give their take on various issues.  I don't get to help write any of the material. I don't help edit.  I just listen.  Even when one of them is dead wrong, I just have to sit and take it.  The beauty of my blog is that I get to voice my opinion.  Unfortunately, I don't have the audience that the station gets.

After a week of listening to Kevin Slaten bash Tony LaRussa, I've got to question the validity of his finger-pointing.  I don't believe that coaches at the professional level do that much coaching.  At the pro level, I think it's less about schemes and game plans and more about leadership and focus. 

Seriously think about that for a minute...  In pro baseball, they don't even call them coaches. They are called "managers."  Why?  Because that's what professional coaches do - they manage the egos of their millionaire athletes, they manage the media, they manage the pressure of expectations on players and organizations. Joe Torre is and has been one of the best at this, but even he has had Derek Jeter, Roger Clemens, Mariano Rivera and the New York Yankee payroll.

Vince Lombardi, who might be the greatest motivator in the history of pro football, had Paul Hornung and Bart Starr develop into offensive juggernauts and put all three of them in the Hall of Fame. Before Lombardi came to Green Bay, the Packers were a collection of lazy losers. By the time he left, any man on roster would've run through a brick wall if Lombardi said so. 


In the NBA, Phil Jackson has had Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, Kobe Bryant and Shaquille Oneal on his championship rosters.  Phil also had assistant coach Tex Winter and his version of triangle offense, so maybe he's the one-in-ten instance that refutes my argument.  The NBA-adaptation of the triangle offense helped take Michael Jordan from a perennial playoff threat to a six-time World Champion.  The funny thing is that Jackson (head coach) gets the credit for Winter's (assistant coach) system.

(The triangle offense has produced 10 NBA Championships)

However, by and large professional sports is about finding the right personality to manage the athletes on and off the court.  For the most part, pro athletes need to be saved from complacency. I'm not saying that professional players don't need to be coached at all; they just don't need to be coached as much.  They would not be professional athletes if they weren't already exceptional at their sport.  Every great coach has had great players to coach. There isn't a single "great" coach that hasn't had an All-Star, All-American or Hall of Famer on a championship roster.

You'll notice that the few coaches that are considered great haven't reached their elevated status by employing inconsistent talent or repeat felons.  When players don't perform to expectations, the coaches get fired. Like it's anyone else's fault that the players miss free throws, strike out, commit penalties or any other in-game gaffs. The coaches get too much credit and too much blame for what happens during competition.