My Wife, Minerva

OK… for those of you who have read my blog, you know that my lovely wife is named Joan, not Minerva. So I guess I should have said that my wife “is a Minerva.” Let me explain.

I looove the game of golf…it is my passion, but it was a passion interrupted. I took up the game in my late teens and got reasonably good (a 5 handicap) by the age of 25. But I got frustrated that I never got any better and completely quit the game until my mid 30’s, when I met my future wife, Joan. One day she saw my clubs gathering dust in the corner of a closet and asked about the game. She expressed some interest and so I took her to a professional tournament. She had a great time and I was bitten by the bug, once again…lessons seemed in order.

We went to our local course and she took a series of lessons. I then found a pro who would work with the both of us (for me lessons are cheaper than therapy). That was 20 years ago and we have each been taking one lesson a month, ever since. But, sadly, I can never get her to play with me, because of her Minerva complex.

OK…so back to Minerva. The great Seal of the State of California has the image of the Roman goddess of wisdom, Minerva, at its center. According to Roman mythology, Minerva was the daughter of Jupiter. She sprang, a full adult, from the forehead of Jupiter. California, like Minerva, sprang full born as a state without ever having to go through the childhood of being a territory. And that’s what Joan wants from her golf game.

Golf is a game that requires a lot of practice, and playing, just to be average. Joan doesn’t like to practice and she doesn’t want to play with strangers…unless she is reasonably good…which she won’t be unless she practices and plays, which…well, you get the picture. Like Minerva, she wants to be a full fledged average golfer without going through the “beginner” stage.

And so, the only time she will play is when we play in an annual family tournament that friends put on, or when we are on vacation and we go to some expensive resort course where we can play alone.

Many women complain about being golf widows. Minerva…Uh, er…Joan need not suffer that fate. I would love to have her out there with me…at least once in the while.

The Dark Side

Many months ago, my lovely wife Joan (aka The Erstwhile Librarian) convinced me that I should write a blog. Now I am a complete techno-nerd. I send e-mail with great difficulty. I am convinced that computers are basically witchcraft. When my screen freezes, rather than go through the appropriate re-boot procedures (what do boots have to do with anything?), I reach for the power button and scream “Die Pig” and then I count to ten...“One velociraptor, two velociraptors” (such a shut down procedure worked in Jurrasic Park, but with dire consequences). I turn the power back on and I start over.

So anyway, when Joan suggested a blog I said, “Uh…Ok!?” Of course I was clueless as to the niceties of blogging. I just thought I would write a few essays now and then and, if anyone read them, cool! If not, no biggie. And, for a while, that’s how it was…until my wife, an erstwhile librarian, became THE Erstwhile Librarian. At that point, sadly, I lost her to the dark side. At first she did an occasional post and solicited comments from family and close friends. Then, as she began to read other blogs and comment on them, her fan base began to increase exponentially and she felt the need to not only blog every day but to comment on every blog she read as well. Now, when she gets up in the morning, before she gets the newspaper, she turns on the computer and heads for the blogosphere. If she isn’t eating or sleeping, she’s on the computer.

Regrettably, this is partly my fault. I love the game of golf. It is my passion. For years, I have tried to get Joan to play with me (she takes lessons regularly) but to no avail. I said I felt sorry for her because she had no activity in her life that she was passionate about…HUGE mistake! She has discovered her passion and now she wants to drag me in with her.

Recently she has been nagging me to blog again, and so I did…and a whole bunch of lovely people responded with nice comments. If any of you are reading this…thank you. And if you like the look of my blog, thank Joan, who not only re-did my blog and her own, but also did her cousin's Moose Buyer blog as well. I don’t expect I will blog as often as Joan, but I will try.

Process vs. Product

For years I’ve been driving by a local grammar school and something has bothered me. The school is in good shape, in a nice neighborhood, and has been there since the mid 1950’s. There have never been any problems, that I know of, on campus and the students seem well adjusted. And then one day I realized what bothered me. It was there plastered on the side of the school gym right next to the street. It was the school motto. The motto read “We strive for success.”

OK…I know…this sounds perfectly fine and noble, but it bugged me. It bugged me because it teaches, at least subliminally, that kids should focus on success which is, very often, an elusive product over which we, very often, have little control. From my perspective, I would like to replace the success with a word that emphasizes the process which can lead to the product (success)… a word like excellence.

Sadly, in today’s world, success can be had at the expense of ethics and honesty. Sports heroes take steroids. Business people pad or even completely falsify their resumes to achieve…success.

Excellence is internal, success is external. The child who cheats “successfully” on a test or copies someone else’s homework may succeed but will they ever excel?

The golfing great, Gary Player, was practicing hitting out of a greenside sand trap on day when a passer-by stopped to watch. Player had been practicing for hours when the man stopped. Player proceeded to hit his next three shots into the hole. The passer-by commented “You have to be the luckiest golfer in the world.” To which Player replied “and the harder I practice, the luckier I get.” Process led to product…excellence led to success. This is what we should teach our kids.

The Knuckleball of Truth

Spin is a word with many meanings. A top spins. You can take your car out for a spin. You can spin the truth.

Spin is defined as a rotation around a fixed point. Physics dictates that an object moving through a resistive medium like water or air will bend if spin is present. Golfers are painfully aware of hooks and slices. A baseball pitcher puts spin on the ball to get a curve or a slider. In tennis, a topspin lob drops like a rock while a cut shot with backspin floats.

In the world of opinion, the truth is spun…by almost everyone…and people like it that way. Bill O’Reilly of Fox News claims his show is a “no spin zone” and yet clearly his truth is decidedly right leaning. When a recent letter to Bill indicated that the writer seldom agreed with Bill but did on a particular point, rather than acknowledge their common opinion, Bill said “That makes you a Secular Progressive. “ He had to make sure his core audience knew where he stood without actually saying so…Spin!

The more left leaning commentators on MSNBC do the same thing…spin! But in all fairness to both the Left and the Right, that is exactly what their audiences want. They can follow the truth if it has spin.

If a batter knows a pitcher is going to throw a curve, he can follow the start of the arcing flight of the ball and coordinate his bat position to hit the ball. The trouble is he doesn’t know what the pitcher is going to throw. If the tennis player knows a topspin forehand is coming, he will know how to adjust to the lower ball flight and the quicker bounce and he can return the shot…if he knows it is coming. Both athletes understand the spin and can be where they need to be. But ask a batter what is the hardest pitch to hit and he will say the knuckle ball. Ask a tennis player and they will say the absolutely flat shot is hardest to track. Why? Because they have very little spin and, as a result, the ball wobbles, sometimes up sometimes down sometimes left and sometimes right.

And so it is with the truth. Truth, delivered with no spin, bobs and weaves its way into our consciousness. Good people do bad things. Bad guys are not always that bad. It is this moral ambiguity that spun truth lacks. Sadly, pure truth is most often accurately portrayed in shades of gray. And as much as we want to think we want it, very often Col. Nathan Jessup (Jack Nicholson’s character in “A Few Good Men”) is correct when he observed “You can’t handle the truth.”

Iraq’s New Bicycle

When I was 7 years old, I learned to ride a bike. Our next door neighbors, the Dodges, had two kids the same age as my brother and me, and they had bikes. My dad borrowed one of their bikes and, as I sat on the seat and, as my dad began to push and steady the bike, I started pedaling. Suddenly, I was aware that my dad was no longer behind me…I was riding…by myself! I made it to the corner and somehow managed to turn right. I rode about half way down the block when I started to lose my balance. I tried to pull over to the curb, which I hit, landing in a bed of ivy. I got up and made my way back to the curb. With one foot on the curb and one foot on the pedal, I pushed off and, after wobbling violently for a second, I got my balance and continued on. I made it around the next two corners, heading for home, when my balance again began to fail me. This time I was able to bring the bike to a stop, placing my foot on the curb, and then pushed again, returning to where I started.

Over the next few months, the Dodges were gracious enough to let me use Bobby’s bike to improve my skills which, despite numerous falls, scrapes, and bruises, did improve. That Christmas, I got a bike which ultimately became my magic carpet to the world around me.

Iraq just got a brand new bike. It was built with the fall of Saddam Hussein and delivered when the people of Iraq voted for a new government. And now they are learning to ride it. The problem is, Dad (The U. S. of A) won’t let go of the seat for fear Iraq will fall and yet that is exactly what must happen if the Iraqis are to learn to ride by themselves. Granted, the road is rough and slippery, which makes learning difficult, but the roads in this part of the world are all rough and slippery. The warring factions in Iraq must finally come to terms with each other if “the bike is to be ridden.” This will never happen as long as the USA functions to buffer their interaction. This democracy and nation building stuff isn’t easy. We, of all people, should know that. It takes time…sometimes a long time.

“Four score and seven years” after “our fathers brought forth on the continent a new nation”, that 87 year old nation was tearing itself apart in a bloody civil war. Ken Burns, in his documentary “The Civil War,” noted that, before the war, politicians referred to our nation as “These United States.” After the war, our nation saw itself as one nation and we referred to ourselves as “THE United States.” Iraq must go through the same process. No matter how much we may want to steer the outcome, they must learn to live with each other. The bottom line is…we have to let go of the seat.