“Missing The Mark”

May 16th, 2012

Sometimes in life… we miss the mark.

People who do the “rolling stop” thing at right-turn-on-red signals or at stop signs aren’t hardened criminals. What they do could be criminal, especially if someone becomes the victim of such behavior, but they simply missed the mark.

The driver who runs through a yellow light… the person who helps themselves to two newspapers at the paper bin aren’t hardened criminals. They simply miss the mark.

The shopper who ruffles through the clothing store looking for miss-priced goods to get the “best deal” is not overtly trying to steal; they simply missed the mark.

The taxpayer who pushes the limits with our favorite uncle won’t admit to ripping the government off but their very actions, while they may not be totally ethical, are at best, dubious and at worst possibly criminal. Are they hardened criminals? No, they simply missed the mark.

The student who glances at another student’s answers on a test question isn’t overtly trying to cheat; they simply missed the mark. Should they be expelled forever? What is the price for missing the mark in life?

If we’re honest with ourselves, at some time or another, we have all missed the mark. We have all exceeded a speed limit at one time or another. We have all taken tax deductions that might be questionable. We all have all overeaten when we know it could be hazardous to our health. We have all over medicated to make the pain disappear. We have all misstated about our height and weight when questioned by the agent who just sold us life insurance. Are these criminal actions? Are they not fraud? Are they not illegal? Perhaps…however I prefer to think we simply just missed the mark. We made bad choices.

The title of a new book manuscript that I am developing mirrors something I have always said from the platform to hundreds of audiences- “All I Want out of Life is An Unfair Advantage!” That very statement could be a double-edged sword.

For instance, I consider thanking people to be an unfair advantage. The very first thing I do when I get on an airplane is I go to the head flight attendant and I ask for the name and address of their supervisor. “Is there a problem sir?” I respond, “No, I simply want to write them a thank you note for the wonderful service I’m about to receive!” My motivation might appear noble, but the bottom line is I want a better seat. This might be considered missing the mark.

We Catholics are notorious for leaving Mass immediately after communion. These are the same people who back their Cadillac in so they can get a running start after Mass. One Sunday, I witnessed a Priest calling them out for leaving early. Both the priest and the people leaving early missed the mark.

What gives the good Father the right to admonish their bad behavior in front of hundreds of other people? What if the person leaving had just received a text that a loved one just died? An excellent argument could be made that he should not have been texting in church. He may have missed the mark… but so did the Priest.

At one time or another, we have all missed the mark in life. It’s all about the choices we make. My beautiful grandbabies, Ava and Ashley, are always saying to me “Jiddo (Arabic for grandfather), did you make good choices today?” They hear this same advice from their mother and father all the time. And when I make a “bad choice,” they always suggest that I be put in “time out,” the equivalent of juvenile jail. I missed the mark as we all do.

My three sons are often called upon to judge weightlifting meets all over the country. They have to make the call on good lifts and bad lifts. I hear parents screaming from the stands about the bad call that took place 100 feet from them, while the judge is two feet away.

Parents always defend their own, be they lifters or judges. Yes, we miss the mark… and when that happens, but it’s not an indictable offense. Just do you best to hit the mark in life!

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“I’ve Never Been That Far In My Dreams”

May 9th, 2012

You have to love anyone who goes by the name of “Bubba”. Take Bubba Watson for example. He’s just one of the guys. After winning the Masters this year, he commented “I’ve never been that far in my dreams.” I found that very interesting.

Here’s a guy whose call name is Bubba. He reportedly never had a golf lesson in his life. It might be reasonable for him to think that winning the Masters was not necessarily an achievable goal. I choose to think that he did, in fact, have such dreams… but he was humble and gracious enough not to broadcast them.

I called my favorite uncles “uncle Bubba Arthur” and “uncle Bubba Junior”. Bubba is what we southerners use as an affectionate moniker.

Dreams of glory begin and are often extinguished early in life. From the earliest moments I can recall, I was influenced to dream in a positive way. My grandfather, the late Elias S. Mack, Sr., gave me a journal when I was only ten years old and told me to make a list of 500 things I wanted to do in my life. Get real! I’m ten. I don’t know 500 things.

However, that summer, his last on this earth, he mentored me to “dream.” So we went about the process of making the list of “dreams”.

He would often ask me “What do you think about?” In those days, it was mostly sports, so he suggested that I put down lofty sports goals, like playing college football and playing in the NFL or playing baseball on a major league level. None of that ever happened, but I did pursue those sports successfully on a much lower level.

He would ask me “Who inspires you?” The people I found most inspiring were the priests in St. Peter’s Catholic Church in Columbia, SC. He suggested that I take my journal to church and write down the things I found inspiring. It led me to consider the priesthood ever so briefly, but as soon as I learned about celibacy that dream went out the window.

We would look through the newspapers each day. In Lexington, SC, The State newspaper arrived in the morning, and in those days the now defunct Columbia Record was delivered in the afternoon. We would talk about people and events in the news. My grandfather was Mayor of Lexington in the late forties and his son, Eli Mack, Jr. (uncle Bubba Junior), would later serve in that some role.

So naturally, I put politics on my list. I’ll never be Governor and I’ll never be in Congress, but I would not have run for the House of Representatives had I not put Governor on the list. Mercifully, I got my clocked cleaned on my first and only attempt at elected office, eliminating that dream.

When I review, as I often do, that original journal (one of over 250 I now have), I have scratched off 487 of the original 500 things I dreamed about. No, many were not accomplishable, but I never considered getting beat in a political race as a defeat. Instead, I saw it as another great experience in my life. No, I’m not interested in repeating it.

I’ll never be a priest, but I do think I pursued motivational public speaking because I was motivated by a priest, leading me to win the South Carolina Oratorical Speech Contest in high school and later the World Championship of Public Speaking for Toastmasters International. Dreams establish goals in your life.

While Bubba Watson says “I never went that far in my dreams” I submit to you that he was simply too modest to tell us that he does dream deeply every day of his life. When he said he wanted to be a father and he learned that his wife could never produce a child, they adopted a baby. He dreams of being a loving, giving father and husband. You have to admire that.

You have to admire that golf is not the only thing in his life and that being the best father has significantly more importance than being the best on the links. You have to admire the “bubba’s” of the world.

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Honor Thy Mother

May 2nd, 2012

The story of Mothers Day is a long one. It is neither a recent phenomenon as many people believe it to be nor is it the creation of card and gift marketers syndicate as assumed by cynics of Mothers Day.

To the surprise of many people, Mothers Day celebrations are first said to have taken place in the time of ancient Greeks and Romans hundreds of years ago. Even Mothers Day celebrations in UK began much before the tradition saw the light of the day in US.

In US the efforts of Ms. Julia Ward Howe and Ms. Anna Jarvis are greatly recognized for starting the tradition of Mothers Day but several other women too made remarkable contribution to further the cause of Mothers Day holiday.

Today Mothers Day is celebrated in more than 46 countries around the world though at different times in the month of May. In some countries it is celebrated in entirely different times of the year. Presently, Mothers Day has come to be internationally recognized as the day to honor all mothers and thank them for the services they impart for the benefit of their individual child and consequently to the development of mankind.

How do you recognize and honor your mother, living or deceased?

It’s been said that God could not be everywhere and therefore he made mothers. The pay for a mother comes in the love from her children, be they biologically hers or be they chosen by her. Mothers are forced to think of everything twice, once for herself and once for her child. Often, the hand that rocks the cradle will ultimately become a hand that will rule a world.

My own mother was a remarkable soul. She lost her first three children in childbirth before delivering 11 in a row without incident. As my father facetiously pointed out later in life, “When we figured out what was causing it we put a stop to it!”

My mother was affectionately known as “Mama-Alice” to us kids and to hundreds of surrogate children. On any given day, she would have 11 of her own to feed and usually a handful of our friends who tagged along for a free meal at the Aun house on South Lake Drive in mid-town Lexington, SC.

The six hundred people that came to pay homage to her on the day of her funeral were but a fraction of the testimonial that many had for “Mama-Alice.” Hardly a month goes by that I don’t get an e-mail or a note from someone we grew up with that says how much they missed her.

“Mama-Alice” died on August 15, 1984, my 35th birthday. Nearly three decades later, people still remark to me about the profound impact she had on their lives. Her role on this earth was to not only mother her own children but her surrogate children as well.

Always patient and forgiving, she never deserted any poor soul that showed up in the shadows of her door. She never questioned why these stragglers were there. Some of these poor, hungry souls were found on the streets by my brothers and sisters and we did what we were taught to do… we brought them home and fed them!

“Mama-Alice” had all she could pray over just cooking, ironing, cleaning and caring for her own. While she was poor herself, the inheritance she left my brothers and sisters and our surrogate siblings is priceless. She was always a beacon of light, there to brighten our future and to protect us from our blemished past through her forgiveness and understanding.

She never saw the trials and tribulations of motherhood as a heavy burden. She made sure that adversity would be replaced by prosperity, and that our troubles would be minimized.

It’s been said that we men seek to marry a woman like our mothers. I often say to my wife Christine “I wish I had a mother like you!” Indeed, she is the same kind of loving mother to my children and grandchildren that “Mama-Alice” was to hers.

Take a moment to honor the mothers in your life, be they your own or the mother of your children. Tell them what they mean to you!

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Carve Out A Little Slice Of Their Lives

April 24th, 2012

One does not have to do anything to become a grandparent. It simply happens when your child has a child. It is up to you to decide how involved you will be in your grandchild’s life.

There is an inherent biological relationship but the emotional bonding between grandparent and grandchild comes only with effort. It happens when the grandchild sees that you are open to forming a relationship. It happens when you get off your easy chair and make the effort to see what matters to your grandchild.

On a good day, I am a distant second to “Grammy” in the hearts and minds of my beautiful granddaughters, Ashley and Ava. I have accepted this as the reality of life. Grammy is that kind of a person; everyone loves her because she is simply so extraordinary. She is the kind of human being that everyone loves– parents, brothers, sisters, in-laws, children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, friends and neighbors. In short, I wish I could be a fraction of the person my beautiful wife Christine is to all the people she influences every day of her life.

I’m used to finishing second. After all, I am a Dale Earnhardt, Jr. fan and a University of South Carolina Gamecock fan. I can tell you all about second place and how it feels to finish there.

Still, I get those private moments with “my babies” as I affectionately call them. The Arabic word I liken them to is “hiyetti” which roughly translated means “my heart or my life… the breath of my life.” Ava and Ashley are the breath of my life.

My babies call me “Jiddo” which is the Arabic word for grandfather. We have our rituals which we honor. For instance, when we pack them up to send them home with their parents, I always tell them “be bad!” And they quickly respond with two things: “No Jiddo, you have to make good choices… be good!” Then they say “Grammy, you need to put Jiddo in time out!” I can hear their giggling and laughter all the way down the street as they drive away from our home. If nothing else, I suppose I serve as a good “bad example.”

Another favorite ritual is when I take on the role “Jiddo bear.” I pretend to be speaking as Ashley’s teddy bear. We were recently eating out in Orlando and the girls were doing what they always do- -playing with their food and not really eating the cheese pizza that sat in front of them.

To the rescue comes “Jiddo bear.” In the squeakiest voice I can muster, the “Jiddo bear” toddles over to the pizza tray and pretends to eat a bite of their pizza. Then “Jiddo bear” burps, which they find hilarious. Next, he sits and pats his belly as if he’s full. Again, they thought this was the funniest thing ever. And the ritual goes on and on.

This is what granddaddies must do. They have to carve out a little slice of their grandchildren’s life that only they can occupy- not the parents and not Grammy.

Another of our rituals is done poolside. My babies are just learning to swim without the floaties. This is a particular challenge because they went kicking and screaming through the process so I’ve turned it into a game. I figure if keeping score is good enough for Olympic divers it’s good enough for my babies. So I take up residence in the “Jiddo cubbyhole” as the girls call it, which my corner seat in the pool. They dive and I keep score, signaling a “ten” every time. Okay, so I cheat! It’s my job.

It’s my job to lose at tick-tack-toe to Ashley. It’s my job to be put in “time out” for pulling some of the shenanigans that granddaddies pull. It’s my job to lie on my bed and let them decorate me with flowers or to “do my hair.” It’s my job to let them jump on the trampoline, which is my bed.

Just do your job grandparents and carve out a little slice of your grandchild’s life. The memories you craft will last forever, for you and for them.

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“Thank A Teacher… Today!”

April 18th, 2012

Teachers are a lot like our men and women in the military. Both groups perform some of the most valuable services in society and yet each is among the poorest compensated and least appreciated groups. Why is this?

We take these heroes and sheroes for granted. My son, Cory and his wife Casey are both school teachers as well as Viviana, the wife of Christopher, another son. All could have easily have made much more money in another profession, but like millions of other teachers across this country, they chose this profession. You could say the same thing about the women and men who chose the military. As Tom Brokaw once said, “It’s easy to make a buck. It’s a lot tougher to make a difference.”

In September of 2005, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a social studies school teacher at Robinson High School in Little Rock, Arkansas did something not to be forgotten. On the first day of school, with the permission of the school superintendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she removed all of the desks out of her classroom.

When the first period kids entered the room they discovered that there were no desks. “Ms. Cothren, where are our desks?” the children asked. She replied, “You can’t have a desk until you tell me how you earn the right to sit at a desk.”

They thought, “Well, maybe it’s our grades.” She replied, “No, it’s not your grades.”

“Maybe it’s our behavior.” She told them, “No, it’s not even your behavior.”

And so, they came and went, the first period, second period, third period. Still, no desks in the classroom.

By early afternoon television news crews had started gathering in Ms. Cothren’s classroom to report about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of her room.

The final period of the day came and as the puzzled students found seats on the floor of the desk-less classroom, Martha Cothren said, “Throughout the day no one has been able to tell me just what he or she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks that are ordinarily found in this classroom. Now I am going to tell you.”

At this point, Martha Cothren went over to the door of her classroom and opened it.

Twenty-seven United States veterans, all in uniforms, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk. The vets began placing the desks in rows, and then they would walk over and stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place the children started to understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned.

The teacher said, “You didn’t earn the right to sit at these desks. These heroes did it for you. They placed the desks here for you. Now, it’s up to you to sit in them. It is your responsibility to learn, to be good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education. Don’t ever forget it.”

Ms. Cothren was awarded Teacher of the Year for the state of Arkansas in 2006.

The task of excellent teachers is to stimulate ordinary people with extraordinary efforts. The challenge is not to get great students to perform great; the challenge is to get ordinary kids to rise to extraordinary levels of performance.

These great educators teach from the heart, not the head. They tug and push at you to move you to the next plateau, sometimes using a sharp stick called reality. That’s what Martha Cothren did.

Teachers lighten the burden of others by educating children. Teaching is not a lost art; our regard for those who do it has lost its tradition. These brave women and men sacrifice income and opportunity to perform one of the noblest acts in society today.

Take the time today to thank those who teach your children or grandchildren. Take the time to thank those who touched your heart as they opened your mind to new ideas.

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