Star Thrower

I've come across this story numerous times and love it.

Star Thrower by Loren Eiseley

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean." "I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."

Sportumentaries Flashback: Learning to Love the Game

March 23, 2005

As I gaze out my window I see the branches of the trees are still void and empty fingers waving leafless in the still cool breeze. The grass lies lifeless and without a hint of the green that is sure to spring forth when the warmth arrives. It is not a scene that sparks visions of spring, but the change in seasons will come with just a few more spins of the clock.

Yesterday, my warm weather memories were initiated by a call from my brother. You see he lives on the golf course. Actually he lives in the city, but between the dawn of each day and blowing of work’s final whistle, he brings shape to the landscape of a suburban oasis. Meticulously trimming the greens, taming the ominous rough, sculpting God’s greenest earth into a softly painted portrait he readies for the graceful swings and patient thought of the golfing faithful. And because he is also patient and kind, he allows hacks like me into his wonderland as well.

I am growing each year to appreciate the game more and more. I have always had an appreciation for the beauty of the land and what carefully trained hands are capable of doing with it. Patience is the thing I lack and the element of my golfing character I am seeking to develop. This lack of calmness when approaching the targeted result has long been my downfall in the activities of fishing and billiards as well.

When it comes to golf, I am most certainly a novice having swung the tools of the links a number of times that have been very few and far between. I have found the game to be a great tamer of ego. Even the professionals of this thinking man’s game find themselves in the rough with some regularity. I, the wise consumer of an occasional round, have always gotten my money’s worth. It is calculated fact that I always take full advantage of as many strokes per dollar as anyone on the course.

One of my first trips to the course was with a grandmother who had become a regular participant and a cousin who was accustomed to some practice. They were certainly the better half of our foursome. They were joined by me and a bag full of mismatched clubs and my grandfather who, by the similarity in efficiency of our games, was as much a golfer as I was.

On that day I would shoot a 99. I am told that is quite an adequate score on a day of 18 holes, but my taking the same number of strokes on a day of nine is not impressive. On that afternoon, I would swing often and dodge a dimpled white ball grandfather sent towards a concrete bridge support. Equal and opposite reaction in this situation had four bodies clutching for the green grass beneath us in a shot that landed dangerously close to the spot from which it left.

Many years, but not as many rounds later, my brother invited me out for an afternoon round and I was excited simply to spend the time together. Eighteen holes and one birdie later (it was a goose that I hit) I sought a calculator to tabulate my final score. I was much closer to 150 than 100 and held to my theory of getting the most swing for the money.

I found comfort in the fact that I had managed to entertain my patient and coaching sibling. Pride filled my whole being as I connected with what felt like the most solid swing of my limited golfing life. I turned with a smile, heard laughter from behind and was soon startled by a heavy splash in the creek running just feet in front of me. Our second outing would see me shave 26 strokes from my score now nearer 125 than 100, but still a marked improvement. I would finish the round again with one birdie (this time a duck).

I am learning to appreciate the poetry of a game that holds much room for my personal improvement. A game of great intricacy; a game of peace and quiet. A game where a man must be at his best for it is he, and no one else, who holds his final sporting fate in his hands. It is a game played without pads and helmets, though if you see me pulling up to a course near you, you might consider wearing one.

Sportumentaries Flashback: Opening Day on the Little Diamond

April 26, 2005

It’s a beautiful sun splashed day at the ballpark. Blades of grass dance gently around to the music of a cool spring breeze as wispy clouds crawl leisurely across the bluest sky in days. The afternoon is brimming with promise, but the stands are hardly filled. Those in attendance wait eagerly for the first pitch overflowing with the anticipation of a new season. Others are still stuck at work not yet occupying empty lawn chairs spread along the foul lines. It’s Little League Opening Day in Anytown, USA.

It could be your town or mine. Wherever it is, it’s a million miles away from anything you’ll see in the major leagues. Twelve Hawks take their positions as 12 Cougars stand in the dugout. They don’t worry about the fact that they’re drastically undersized or underpaid. After all, if little Timmy at third base had to worry about feeding his family they’d all soon go hungry. If it was up to him he’d skip meals most nights and spend the extra time playing around in the backyard. His mom tells me his allowance is barley sufficient to buy the baseball cards that spark his baseball interest. She does admit to sneaking a few extra packs into the grocery cart now and then. Timmy’s not yet ready for the pros, he’s still working on throwing the ball all the way from third to first.

The claim to fame for the left handed hitting bundle of nervous energy in right field is his prowess at the plate. His legendary swing has opponents backing themselves more than the typical two steps behind the edge of the infield. He was the only one in last year’s rookie campaign to hit it that far with regularity. For the other free swingers, the outfielders and infielders are nearly one, a solid seven man wall trying to knock down those hotly hit grounders that usually die before they get that far anyway. In last season’s dramatic championship game, the young south paw hit one through the human wall and into the grass sending a mob of fielders into a frenzy. He was able to circle the bases with ease after this “longball” had all the infielders leaving their posts. They converged on the ball, leaving the defense slightly out of form.

Out here it’s substance over style. Young Andrew’s stirrups keep falling down around his ankles not reaching the bottom of his wrinkled and baggy baseball pants. They’ve likely been sitting in his gym bag all weekend in anticipation of today’s trip to the ballpark. His hat sets high on his head, slightly tipped to the right. He looks like a pile of dirty laundry, the small patch of dandelions behind second base is where he chooses to take his ready stance. The ball is not likely to make it that far today (the wind’s blowing in) which is good, he’s seldom paying attention anyways.

The game is different out here. Most contests end with tied scores, each team reaching the maximum runs allowed each inning. What the game lacks in defense it makes up for in pure enjoyment. No one’s keeping track of errors which are always met with a mother’s voice calmly saying “That’s o.k.” The winner is deemed to be the team that collects the most outs during games that often reach the allotted time after just three innings. A three out inning is indeed a rarity and likely accidental. Six in a game just might get your team into the local Hall of Fame.

There is no rumbling about steroids. These youngsters are old enough to know talk of such subjects make dad scowl. They would surely know better than to put something that nasty into their bodies. It’s hard enough to choke down vegetables at the dinner table even though they’ve been told they’re supposed to make you big and strong. Better stick to what mom and dad say is best.

This loosely manicured diamond is a haven for good times and the lost art of sportsmanship. As the game ends, the coaches confer over which team managed the most outs. The kids hardly notice as they converge over a cooler full of soda sharing a few laughs and comparing grass stains. The post game pep talk will have to wait and no one’s talking to the media. Perhaps it’s because I’m the only member of the press in attendance or maybe it’s because they’ve all been taught not to talk to strangers.

Sportumentaries Flashback: My Sports Dream List

Rather than alter the original, I present my list of 40 in its original form. Should I apologize to my soon-to-be brother-in-law for the anti-Yankees sentiment?

May 4, 2005

A sudden urge overcame me to compile a roll of all the things in sports that I wish to see and do. I imagine this list would be infinitely more fun had it been compiled sitting around a table with friends (or even complete strangers). Regardless, it is what is sure to be just the beginning of my sports fantasy list.

As with any listing, I reserve the right to add gratuitously to it as time moves on. I’m sure this topic could spurn many long conversations and should certainly be accompanied by a steak or cold drink. We should arrange that.

So here goes…

01) A World Series win for the Cubs (let’s get that one on the docket quickly),
02) a 100 loss season for the Yankees (they’re not all nice for all people, it’s my list) and
03) a front row seat to a Red Sox/Yankees tilt at Fenway Park (guess who wins).

04) Decent seats (because just being there is enough) to the Super Bowl,
05) the Final Four (featuring at least one powerhouse and one underdog),
06) the World Series (featuring anyone but the Yankees),
07) Wimbledon (featuring at least one guy I’ve remotely heard of),
08) the College World Series,
09) a Duke/North Carolina basketball game at Cameron Indoor Stadium and
10) an Ohio State/Michigan football game at the Big House.

11) Knowing what it’s like (just once) to throw a wicked curveball,
12) nail a perfect dive off the highest Olympic platform,
13) hit a homerun over the ivy at Wrigley Field,
14) serve a tennis ball with everything I’ve got without clearing the chain link fence,
15) dunk a basketball through a rim that doesn’t lower to help my ego and
16) drop a hole-in-one in a cup that is not obstructed by a windmill.

17) Run with the bulls at Pamplona,
18) skydive over the most picturesque landscape known to man,
19) muster enough patience to spend an entire Saturday fishing on one cast,
20) spend a summer visiting every Major League ballpark with my dad,
21) flash my chest during a Super Bowl halftime show, (on second thought no one wants to see that) and
22) take a few laps at top speed with a NASCAR driver.

23) Know the thrill of riding all the world’s meanest roller coasters,
24) what it’s like to make a juke laden Michael Vick run to the endzone and
25) be there when George Steinbrenner spontaneously combusts.

26) Be the general manager of a professional sports franchise,
27) help develop the greatest football video game of all time,
28) mow a visual masterpiece in the outfield of a major league ballpark and
29) reel in a giant deep sea fish that drains my whole being of energy.

30) Pull off an Evil Knievel jump over a thousand flaming somethings,
31) nail a triple lutz on the moon (had to find a way to include space travel) and
32) produce a sports movie that makes audiences burst into wild applause.

33) Cure the sporting world of players who play for the money and not the love,
34) find a way to allow everyone to see the team they love live without cost,
35) allow everyone to meet all the athletes that have wowed them since childhood,
36) have them all turn out to be everything we hoped they’d be and
37) let everyone let loose experiencing the greatest sporting event of their lives.

…finally…

38) See my son hit a homerun,
39) a game winning shot or (if he prefers)
40) play a perfect piece at a piano recital (and brim with excited pride all the same).

So that’s the list. My unabashed, uninhibited dream register compiled without shame and without regard for my physical limitations. What a joy it would be if money, time and responsibility where not an obstacle and I could venture off to begin checking them off one-by-one.

VIDEO: Simple Dance?

This is Kellen dancing along with one of his Sesame Street DVDs. The song is called "A Very Simple Dance" and Kellen cracks me up when he's playing along with it. I have legitimate concerns when the pull your ears part comes along. He's quite forceful when yanking on his lobes.

The audio from the DVD is a little soft but you can hear enough of it if you crank up the volume.

VIDEO: Aidan's Favorite Jokes 2

It's been about a year since the "Aidan's Favorite Jokes" post. Here's some new material.

Afternoon Bakery

Aidan and I spent a little time in the kitchen this afternoon. We baked some sugar cookies and added N 'n' Nms (also known as M&Ms) to our chocolate chip cookies. Aidan's special sugar cookie had frosting and orange sprinkles (his favorite color). We even made a large sugar cookie packed with Starburst jelly beans for Rachel...and ate most of it ourselves.

I'm Evolving

Today I had Aidan study me as he drew a picture of me. I've evolved from a giant head on two legs to a more sophisticated creature with very large fingers.

Maturing Thoughts and Priorities

My big little boy is becoming more and more mature in his thoughts and conversations every day.

Yesterday we learned that my cousin’s daughter was announced to be in remission following her cancer treatments. We’ve been praying for her nightly during Aidan’s bedtime prayers so I told Aidan that I found out she was feeling better. His immediate response was to tell me that he still wanted to pray for her. We said a prayer of thanks and will continue to keep her in our thoughts and evening conversations with God.

Last evening while I was putting Kellen to bed I heard Aidan chattering excitedly in the kitchen. I came out to find that he had Rachel cornered and was explaining to her (in great detail) the kinds of things that were recyclable. He had approached me with the same lecture earlier in the day. Nice to see the cartoon channels are trying to teach kids about important things. We do recycle of course and he listened intently as we both explained at different times yesterday just how they do it and why. He said he wanted to help out with the recycling and we immediately walked our cans down to the bin.

Like A Song

I borrowed this from Facebook. Not so coincidentally the title of my post is also a U2 song title.

In some situations I presented multiple options for the same question and used a progression of song titles in others.

...

Use only song titles from the artist you pick to cleverly answer the questions below.

Pick Your Artist: U2

Are you male or female: Please

Describe yourself: Smile/Always

How do you feel about yourself: Running to Stand Still, Stuck In a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of

Describe where you currently live: In God’s Country, Heartland

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Where the Streets Have No Name

Your favorite form of transportation: Fast Cars

Your best friend is: She’s a Mystery to Me, Sweetest Thing, Two Hearts Beat As One

Your favorite color is: Bullet the Blue Sky, Your Blue Room

What's the weather like: Beautiful Day

Favorite time of day: 11 O’Clock Tick Tock

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Even Better Than the Real Thing, Mysterious Ways, If God Will Send His Angels, Zoo Station, Out of Control, The Wanderer, I Fall Down, Somedays Are Better Than Others

What is life to you: A Celebration/All Because of You

What is the best advice you have to give: Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own

If you could change your name, what would it be: Fortunate Son

Your favorite food is: Two Shots of Happy, One Shot of Sad/Lemon

Thought for the Day: Walk On, One Step Closer

How I would like to die: Last Night on Earth/Exit/Elevation/Yahweh/Falling At Your Feet/Surrender/Grace/Levitate/Hallelujah/Luminous Times/Rejoice

My soul's present condition: Dancing Barefoot/Never Let Me Go

My motto: I Will Follow/In the Name of the Father/Until the End of the World

VIDEOS: Flash Cards

Kellen is doing really well with recognition of letters, shapes, colors and numbers. His counting is also progressing...though the treacherous 14, 15, 16 string on the way to 20 often has the 15 missing in action.

Aidan sometimes spits out a word on first look without sounding things out but his ease in reading impresses me. Shopping with him or driving (anything that involves visible signage) brings plenty of opportunities for him to hone his skills.

Star Struck and a Lightly Sprinkled Parade

I found out my wife was chasing another man around at work Friday. She even called me excitedly to confess. It’s quite alright…I would have been doing the same thing.

Turns out three-time NFL MVP and Super Bowl champion quarterback Peyton Manning was on the General Mills campus shooting a Wheaties commercial. Word was out and Rachel went looking to see if she could spot him. They ended up exchanging greetings from a distance close enough to tackle him…which she did not…that would have worried me. She took several long walks around the office throughout the day hoping to cross paths again to no avail.


Later in the day I looked out the window and saw a blue football jersey with a big white “18” and “Manning” on the back. Unfortunately it was just the neighbor kid. Rachel had not convinced Peyton to come for dinner.

Yesterday we had an enjoyable but exhausting trip to Ames. It was VEISHEA Saturday and I had a meeting with my fraternity brothers. We jumped out of bed so early my five o’clock shadow had a shadow by 2:00. After making the drive we hit the parade with friends and bumped into more familiar faces than I expected. There were some sprinkly moments during the parade but the weather was not as frightful as forecasted. Strangely it was just my second VEISHEA parade since arriving on campus in 1996 and the first at which I consumed the famed VEISHEA cherry pies.

We arrived home late in the evening after parading, meetings and dining with friends ready to collapse from a big day. That spurred an epic family nap today that had us waking and shaking our heads in disbelief as to how long our mid-day slumber had lasted.

Kellen’s World

Among Kellen’s growing collection of go-to phrases I find the following to be entertaining.

“I’m o.k.!”

This one can be heard whenever a bump comes from any place in the house where Kellen coincidentally is recreating. Toys falling. Two year-old bodies bumping off of walls. You get the picture. Yesterday at the library he was sprinting for the checkout counter, tripped on his own excitement and managed to squeeze out an “I’m o.k.!” before his chest even skidded across the carpet. I am thankful that he’s able to dust himself off and bounce right back to whatever he was doing but he has been a little wrecking ball lately.

He had a span of a few days not long ago where he put two good knots on his head (one on the forehead, one hidden under his hair). He’ll tell you he bumped the stairs when he fell down several of them. That wasn’t even one of the big bumps. The two that tattooed him were running smack into the sliding glass door and cutting the corner too quickly when running around the house.

“Look at me…look at me!”

Perhaps this one should be first. It just may be the root cause for the “I’m o.k.!”

“I win!”

This likely started at bed time. To get Aidan to take a better than lackadaisical pace when putting his pajamas on we would race to see if he could get them on before Kellen was done. Rachel and I both got into the competitive action but primarily it was to get things moving along with the boys. Aidan would then run to Kellen’s room fully PJ’d and proclaim victory. Kellen now wants to win everything even when no one else is playing. Now every time he gets his diaper changed he runs in to see his brother (or whomever is present), raises both arms in victory and yells, “I win!”

“He shoots…he scores.”

I must be guilty of starting this one…maybe Aidan. It likely came up while watching sports or playing in the basement. Now Kellen uses it while cleaning up his toys. He’s a very good helper come clean up time and eager to please as he scrambles to find things to put away. When he gets to the toy box he drops in the item in his hands and enthusiastically shouts, “He shoots…he scores.” Last night while returning dropped noodles to his bowl he was saying the same thing. One at a time…”shoots…scores”, “shoots…scores” until he had a few, “he shoots…he missed.”

Family Inventory

At random points during any waking hour Kellen will pause and give a verbal human inventory of everyone in the room. This was even more fun for him this past weekend when we were among larger groups of family members.

“Yeah-ge-bugs”

Red with black spots. See below. Whether they are on the window or in a book, he loves the yeah-ge-bugs (rhymes with "hay-knee-bugs").

One Chance

I love these moments where ordinary people get their one chance and totally blow people away.

YouTube's not allowing me to embed the videos so you'll have to follow the links.

Susan Boyle: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Paul Potts: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA

The clips are that much better because of the reactions from the judges and the crowd who are writing them off before they start singing and then genuinely stunned.

Paul's got his own CD out now (a second one comes out next month). The first one is appropriately titled "One Chance". From cell phone sales man to worldwide attention. Very cool.

PHOTOS: Easter Weekend

We spent the Easter weekend in Iowa enjoying time with family. Our time there featured multiple egg hunts, a festive bunny cake and a walk down to the shores of Lake Red Rock.


These are just a few photos from the week. I put together one of those handy slideshows but the linking has been problematic. For the full viewing visit the following link:

http://w302.photobucket.com/albums/nn87/tjdeur/?action=view&current=a4d0320a.pbw

Death, Taxes and...

Only two certainties in life? In our house there is another. If you leave your shoes out and unattended, Kellen is going to wear them.

Fighting Off the Winter Temperatures

When you spend your winters in temperatures that would make a polar bear shiver I guess the concept of warmth takes on a different meaning. Last year when the temperatures hit 60 I noticed that everyone…and I do mean everyone…felt the need to bring their bare legs outdoors. Time to start working on that base tan! It was more prevalent than a few bare-legged people wondering through the neighborhood. The temperatures springing up had the majority of the natives exposing their knees.

The weather is trying to warm up this year. We get teased with 50 and then back indoors we run. Lately we’ve gone out for a few post-dinner walks but encourage the boys to keep their hands tucked up in their sleeves. Of course we’re trying to convince ourselves it is spring by wearing sweatshirts as coats when it’s not quite coatless weather just yet.

Yesterday we hit the park on the way home from our walk and let the boys release some energy on the playground. Then the winds picked up and we had to bribe them with Wheel of Fortune to get them back to the house (yes we DVR’d it…Aidan insisted).

Today with the temperature at exactly 50 I look outdoors and see the neighbor’s kids outside engaged in a…wait for it…water fight. Seriously folks! Eighteen degrees north of freezing and running around coatless in the wind with wet clothes seems natural to some. Granted I now find myself wearing the zip-up sweatshirt when things get on the upside of 33 degrees but I’m not looking for the nearest hose or water pistol. Just mentally trying to embrace a new idea of what “warm” means.

I guess when the winter temperatures are even more severe than the rest of the upper Midwest so too becomes the desire to wish it all farewell.

The Joy of Rediscovery

Today Aidan unearthed an old toy that hadn't seen the light of day for quite awhile. He was very excited and it filled the time nicely. Nothing beats the entertainment value of "new" toy. Especially one that cost you absolutely nothing the second time around.

Aqua Doodling

Funny Face

I've been getting this one a lot lately. I think he threw it at me four times in one day this weekend. Rachel says he's mimicking a page from an Elmo book where the little red dude is making funny faces.

UPDATE: I found the book featuring the matching Elmo face.

Family Portrait

Aidan drew the following picture of his family today. The run on sentence leading into the wonderful sketch is our names (not always resetting line-by-line).

He is aware that he threw an "o" into Kellen's name rather than a second "e" but we were being artistically confident with markers this morning and the error was not erasable.

Before drawing the whole family he drew me by myself. He typically does this to amuse me at the beginning of each art session. I'm a little confused as to why I appear to be wearing glasses when I was not at the time.

I also wish someone would have told me I wear my pants so high. My belt line appears to be in the neighborhood of my lower lip.