As near as I can tell, I don't have a doppelganger. But I have been mistook for others here and there.
About six years ago I was working at the radio station and was wearing my sports guy hat. We carried the Kansas City Royals games, so a few of the players and broadcasters would hit the highways of the Sunflower State in February to do meet and greets, sign autographs and get folks excited about the upcoming season. It was my treat to rub elbows with people like Frank White and Jeremy Affeldt, Bob Davis, Ryan Lefebvre and the like.
It was during one of these events that I was mistaken for a Royals player. I'm sitting at the table doing my thing and a little seven-year old says he liked watching me play. My playing career ended at age 14, as I've documented, and I think the kid's father came by and explained things to him.
The second episode happened in church this morning. About the only things I share in common with my parish priest is that we are both middle-aged men, a few years apart in age, and that we both have significant facial hair. I have a goatee, while he has a full beard. But a five-year old walks by me this morning and says, "Hi Marc!"
I suddenly felt a huge burden. But this child is a source of Sunday church happiness, and we had some yuks because of the event.
Christmas for the First Lady and me has been a happy one. We attended the early service at the downtown church, since our friends also worship there, and they were kind enough to invite us to their house for supper afterwards. The service and the music were fantastic. I love going to church, but this service is truly a special event for me, and I was not disappointed. The meal and the company were also top shelf. These friends of ours have two munchkins, a 19-month old and a three-month old, so entertainment was provided. I helped put a train set together, so hopefully I'll hear about some serious Christmas-morning smiles.
We got home in time to sip a little bourbon and soak up some Christmas Eve vibe and head to bed. It wasn't too late of a night, since we were up early to deliver meals on wheels this morning and making it back to enjoy the Christmas morning service at our regular church. The numbers were understandably a little lower, but there was just as much joy.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Prayer
My wife and I are faithful and church-going Episcopalians. As I've said before, we love our church, our priest and the people with whom we attend.
Prayer is one area in which I struggle. I think of all the things I want for others or for myself, and there seem to be so many things that it just makes my head spin because I can't touch every base. Then I wonder if it's the right thing to pray for, then think if there's anything/anyone I've missed (because I want all these good things for all my friends). Then I wonder if God would want it... etc. I think these things into the ground and then I revert to the Lord's Prayer, which I think of as a 'catch all.'
In addition, some of what we pray during the service is 'corporate' prayer, where one person reads the prayer and the congregation responds. After 40 years in the Episcopal church, I'm starting to come around on this kind of prayer, but it seems a little automatic to me. I need to 'feel' my prayer-- have it come from the heart. Yet I realize that's not always possible.
That leads me to ponder a little more what prayer is. I've always thought of it as a discrete act-- where I stop whatever I'm doing and pray. But can prayer be more of a permanent way of thinking-- a kind of 'who you are/what you want/what you believe in' sort of state? I'm no theologian, but if the Lord knows the wants and desires of our own heart, and if no secrets are hid from him...
Anyway, Christmas has been here for five weeks for us retail types. I had no idea so many people bought shoes as presents. I've allowed myself to get a little more wrapped up in the spirit of the occasion. Typically, if everyone else likes it, I hate it. Simple as that. I know it's wrong, but it's where I'm at. So I've been playing my favorite Christmas CD and kind of ingesting it, since I seem to do a good job of absorbing my religion musically. There's a reason we do this, I get it, but it's also OK to enjoy the season and have fun.
I'm starting to understand that a little bit.
Prayer is one area in which I struggle. I think of all the things I want for others or for myself, and there seem to be so many things that it just makes my head spin because I can't touch every base. Then I wonder if it's the right thing to pray for, then think if there's anything/anyone I've missed (because I want all these good things for all my friends). Then I wonder if God would want it... etc. I think these things into the ground and then I revert to the Lord's Prayer, which I think of as a 'catch all.'
In addition, some of what we pray during the service is 'corporate' prayer, where one person reads the prayer and the congregation responds. After 40 years in the Episcopal church, I'm starting to come around on this kind of prayer, but it seems a little automatic to me. I need to 'feel' my prayer-- have it come from the heart. Yet I realize that's not always possible.
That leads me to ponder a little more what prayer is. I've always thought of it as a discrete act-- where I stop whatever I'm doing and pray. But can prayer be more of a permanent way of thinking-- a kind of 'who you are/what you want/what you believe in' sort of state? I'm no theologian, but if the Lord knows the wants and desires of our own heart, and if no secrets are hid from him...
Anyway, Christmas has been here for five weeks for us retail types. I had no idea so many people bought shoes as presents. I've allowed myself to get a little more wrapped up in the spirit of the occasion. Typically, if everyone else likes it, I hate it. Simple as that. I know it's wrong, but it's where I'm at. So I've been playing my favorite Christmas CD and kind of ingesting it, since I seem to do a good job of absorbing my religion musically. There's a reason we do this, I get it, but it's also OK to enjoy the season and have fun.
I'm starting to understand that a little bit.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Snow Stories
I read tonight that my friends back in Kansas are dealing with a lot of snow. 40-minute work commutes now take two and three times as long. School districts are canceling classes, and undoubtedly, basketball games. It's a way of life for coaches and athletic directors to have to reschedule games in that part of the state, and it was always tough to stay up with all the make-up dates and pass them along to listeners at the radio station.
It reminds me of covering a league basketball tournament in Frankfort, KS. It's an annual tournament that plays in mid-January, starting one Saturday and ending the next. All 13 teams played, and just about everyone played that last Saturday. games started at 10 am, so I drove the hour up there in a Ford Contour in just about an hour. But snow fell while I was in the gym the whole day, so when I drove home at 9:00 that night, there was enough on the ground to double my travel time in a four-cylinder, front-wheel drive car. Fun.
But that drive wasn't as much fun as either of the snow drives I made when I lived in Lubbock, TX in my mid-twenties. The one I remember most was in December of 1997, when I worked at the NBC affiliate and had a whopping two days off, since we didn't do a morning show on Christmas day. The boss' daughter, a coworker (with a bit of arm twisting), talked me into driving the 5+ hours home on the 24th. I got home shortly after noon, and even talked to dad before I left, managing to withhold the fact that my bags were packed and I was ready to go.
The weather was fine and the roads were clear as I stopped only once (I was single) for gas and pop in Carlsbad, NM. I surprised my parents' with a joyous overnight stay, and I would do it again.
But I left at noon on Christmas day, and the snow had begun to fall. The same asphalt that was problem-free the evening before was free of traffic but also very slippery. This made for a great time, driving at 35 MPH (with a Diamond Rio Greatest Hits tape playing), knowing that first thing in the morning was 2 AM to start a 3 AM shift at the station, and that I'd lose an hour on the time change.
It snowed the entire 300+ mile way back. Every mile. I had never seen so much snow in my life. Remember I hadn't moved to Kansas yet, so I had no idea what this much snow looked like.
Eventually, I made to Guadalupe Pass, through the mountains of the same name. Driving through the mountains, I eventually caught up to and passed a Texas Department of Public Safety trooper. Keep in mind I can't do more than 35 MPH. He pulled me over a little bit further down the line and chewed me pretty good. I probably deserved it, too. I let him get up the highway a little bit, but I eventually caught him again, at which point he decided he didn't want any part of the trouble I was courting, and turned around to go the other way. He was the smart one, since there wasn't much other than a metal railing between me and a drop into a snowy abyss. I never felt out of control except for once, when I spun out on flat ground east of El Paso. But in reminiscing, I wonder how I made it.
Nine and a half hours later, exhausted, I returned safely to my apartment, called my folks, and went to bed. 2 AM wasn't too far away, and another morning show needed a producer.
I did the same thing a few years later, but stopped for the night with a buddy in Hobbs. I was working for the same man but in a different job, who said to ring the alarm if I was in that spot again. I called him late that second night and he took care of things.
Meanwhile, in Alabama, 63 was today's high temperature, and the highs won't get under 60 until Christmas Eve, and even then it's supposed to be 58, with low 50s on Christmas Day.
It reminds me of covering a league basketball tournament in Frankfort, KS. It's an annual tournament that plays in mid-January, starting one Saturday and ending the next. All 13 teams played, and just about everyone played that last Saturday. games started at 10 am, so I drove the hour up there in a Ford Contour in just about an hour. But snow fell while I was in the gym the whole day, so when I drove home at 9:00 that night, there was enough on the ground to double my travel time in a four-cylinder, front-wheel drive car. Fun.
But that drive wasn't as much fun as either of the snow drives I made when I lived in Lubbock, TX in my mid-twenties. The one I remember most was in December of 1997, when I worked at the NBC affiliate and had a whopping two days off, since we didn't do a morning show on Christmas day. The boss' daughter, a coworker (with a bit of arm twisting), talked me into driving the 5+ hours home on the 24th. I got home shortly after noon, and even talked to dad before I left, managing to withhold the fact that my bags were packed and I was ready to go.
The weather was fine and the roads were clear as I stopped only once (I was single) for gas and pop in Carlsbad, NM. I surprised my parents' with a joyous overnight stay, and I would do it again.
But I left at noon on Christmas day, and the snow had begun to fall. The same asphalt that was problem-free the evening before was free of traffic but also very slippery. This made for a great time, driving at 35 MPH (with a Diamond Rio Greatest Hits tape playing), knowing that first thing in the morning was 2 AM to start a 3 AM shift at the station, and that I'd lose an hour on the time change.
It snowed the entire 300+ mile way back. Every mile. I had never seen so much snow in my life. Remember I hadn't moved to Kansas yet, so I had no idea what this much snow looked like.
Eventually, I made to Guadalupe Pass, through the mountains of the same name. Driving through the mountains, I eventually caught up to and passed a Texas Department of Public Safety trooper. Keep in mind I can't do more than 35 MPH. He pulled me over a little bit further down the line and chewed me pretty good. I probably deserved it, too. I let him get up the highway a little bit, but I eventually caught him again, at which point he decided he didn't want any part of the trouble I was courting, and turned around to go the other way. He was the smart one, since there wasn't much other than a metal railing between me and a drop into a snowy abyss. I never felt out of control except for once, when I spun out on flat ground east of El Paso. But in reminiscing, I wonder how I made it.
Nine and a half hours later, exhausted, I returned safely to my apartment, called my folks, and went to bed. 2 AM wasn't too far away, and another morning show needed a producer.
I did the same thing a few years later, but stopped for the night with a buddy in Hobbs. I was working for the same man but in a different job, who said to ring the alarm if I was in that spot again. I called him late that second night and he took care of things.
Meanwhile, in Alabama, 63 was today's high temperature, and the highs won't get under 60 until Christmas Eve, and even then it's supposed to be 58, with low 50s on Christmas Day.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
BOWL TRIP!
The First Lady and I are unabashed K-State fans. She much moreso than I, since she's a native Kansan and has two degrees from KSU. I've devoted a lot of space here talking about the trip we took to KSU's Pinstripe Bowl in December of 2010-- truly a marvelous time.
This year, we're headed to the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, as our Kansas State Wildcats play Arkansas in the Cotton Bowl, January 6. It's been a remarkable season for the Cats, and defibrillator sales should have spiked in Manhattan, Kansas. The Cats have gone 10-2 in the regular season, far exceeding anyone's expectations. Even ours.
I am truly looking forward to this year's trip, since I am no longer a bowl trip virgin. So much to see, so much to do and so much fun out there for the taking. We expect to see more of our friends this time around, as well as catch up with some others.
Can't wait.
This year, we're headed to the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, as our Kansas State Wildcats play Arkansas in the Cotton Bowl, January 6. It's been a remarkable season for the Cats, and defibrillator sales should have spiked in Manhattan, Kansas. The Cats have gone 10-2 in the regular season, far exceeding anyone's expectations. Even ours.
I am truly looking forward to this year's trip, since I am no longer a bowl trip virgin. So much to see, so much to do and so much fun out there for the taking. We expect to see more of our friends this time around, as well as catch up with some others.
Can't wait.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Super Six
The Alabama high school football season closed Friday night. The Super Six brings the two finalists from each classification (1A-6A) for games Thursday and Friday to Bryant-Denny Stadium, where the Crimson Tide plays. I've had the privilege of serving as a volunteer (one of maybe a few hundred). Two years ago, I wrote the promo that appeared on the jumbotron. This year, I guarded a parking lot by sitting in a lawn chair and checking credentials from noon to five both days. Hard work, to be sure, since it was so nice to be outside. Did a little reading, caught up on a few podcasts, even cleaned out the car. There was plenty of traffic driving by, just not many VIP types coming to park in my lot.
Once my shift was over, however, it was back up to the spacious and palatial press box to rub some elbows and hopefully make a few new media contacts. I watched some of the football, but it's difficult when I don't have a rooting interest or a game to broadcast. I did manage to meet some folks from Alexander City and from Hoover, who each have their own operation. This is the view from the Hoover high broadcast booth, just before kickoff of the 6A state championship against Prattville:
The picture faces the Prattville side, with the Hoover sideline on the near side. The gentleman in the lower right-hand corner is Jeff Lloyd, who teaches broadcasting at HHS. To his left is the color commentator, and then the Internet engineer guy. Not pictured is the statistician (you can see the stat monitor) and his spotter. That's a five-man crew for a high school football game. Granted, Hoover High has gobs of cash, so they can afford a broadcasting teacher as well as snazzy broadcast equipment. It's all a very intricate operation, and I found myself being extremely jealous of all this.
So I hung around Thursday until the middle of the third quarter to watch a co-worker's alma mater play (Hartselle), and I left the Hoover game shortly before half. Great games and much goes on to make sure everyone has a good time. I like that I got to be a very small cog in the machine.
Once my shift was over, however, it was back up to the spacious and palatial press box to rub some elbows and hopefully make a few new media contacts. I watched some of the football, but it's difficult when I don't have a rooting interest or a game to broadcast. I did manage to meet some folks from Alexander City and from Hoover, who each have their own operation. This is the view from the Hoover high broadcast booth, just before kickoff of the 6A state championship against Prattville:
The picture faces the Prattville side, with the Hoover sideline on the near side. The gentleman in the lower right-hand corner is Jeff Lloyd, who teaches broadcasting at HHS. To his left is the color commentator, and then the Internet engineer guy. Not pictured is the statistician (you can see the stat monitor) and his spotter. That's a five-man crew for a high school football game. Granted, Hoover High has gobs of cash, so they can afford a broadcasting teacher as well as snazzy broadcast equipment. It's all a very intricate operation, and I found myself being extremely jealous of all this.
So I hung around Thursday until the middle of the third quarter to watch a co-worker's alma mater play (Hartselle), and I left the Hoover game shortly before half. Great games and much goes on to make sure everyone has a good time. I like that I got to be a very small cog in the machine.
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