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Relationships, Woman2Woman

The Mother of All Catch-22s

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My name is Kendy and I’m a working mother.

This relatively innocuous statement actually has the power to evoke pride, guilt, judgment and even jealousy depending upon who’s in the conversation and their bias about what’s “right” for children, and society.  But what’s right for the moms?

Of all discussion topics, working vs. staying home gets the most play among my group of friends.  Some of us have full-time jobs and some have forgone a career to raise children.  Some need two incomes to get by, while others simply can’t imagine life without a career.  Some who stay home have realized that working is actually more expensive than not, given the high cost of childcare.  Regardless of the situation and our level of satisfaction with it, we all agree that there is no single “right” answer, as we are all faced with a different set of circumstances that impact our decisions on the issue.  However, no matter how satisfied we are with those decisions, we sometimes find ourselves peering over the fence to see if the grass truly is a deeper shade of green.

Even moms who count their blessings about being able to stay home with their children sometimes long for the adult conversations they remember having when they were working.  As one friend says, “When you start to discuss your problems with a toddler-sized plush SpongeBob doll, you know you need some time with grown-ups!”  I’ve had moms admire my shoes and comment longingly that they could never justify the purchase given the few places they would have to wear something so dressy.  Others feel they have no break from their children – as precious as they are – and battle conflicting expectations when their husband arrives home from his own long day at the office.  But these may very well be good tradeoffs for the ability to share all of life’s important and teachable moments.

On the flip side, working moms are often overwhelmed with guilt about the time they spend away from their kids.  I’ve always been career-minded and relatively confident in my ability to have it all in life.  But, even though I often don a super hero cape, I also have some pretty powerful kryptonite.  Looking down at those little people in my life makes everything go just a bit hazy.

At work, I find myself drawn to various pictures of my smiling kids.  I wonder if they’ve had a healthy lunch, whether they’re watching Nickelodeon or the Disney Channel, if Nolan’s had a good “pee pee in the potty” day, and whether Bailey’s loose tooth is still hanging on by a thread.  I feel anxious.  I guiltily remind my mother-in-law about the soccer practice that begins before I’m even supposed to clock out for the day.  And I miss them.

All that would be fine if the culmination of my day wasn’t hearing Nolan burst into tears and state emphatically that he doesn’t want to leave grandma’s house with me.  Bailey sends her own message by ignoring me altogether.  In these moments, when I’m kidnapping my own children from their grandparents’ house, I feel unsettled, disconnected, and a little like I’m watching my life go by from behind a pane of glass rather than out living it.  I’m jealous…jealous of my friends who don’t HAVE to work and surely aren’t subject to the sadness I feel at this repeat, albeit momentary, rejection.  I’m jealous that they get all day to reinforce bonds, while I’m trying to force that into the 60 minutes between dance class and bedtime.

These are the moments when the fantasies of quitting my job and becoming an at-home mom take over.  I imagine myself going on all kinds of daily adventures – to the zoo, the park, and museums – while organizing play dates, catching up on scrapbooks, teaching the kids a foreign language, and sewing their winter wardrobe.  We won’t go into the holes in my fantasy, but let’s just say the likelihood of me actually doing all these things is iffy at best and I stopped just short of adding to the list “make my own soap.”  Hey, it’s my fantasy and I’m sticking to it.

…and I stopped just short of adding to the list “make my own soap.” – Click photo for Making Soap article.

But it’s not all bad.  In fact, when I stop to remember that life isn’t all about me (what??), there are some really great benefits to my kids of being a working mom.

First and foremost, they have an amazing relationship with their grandparents that they likely wouldn’t have if I stayed home.  Having more than just mom and dad to teach, reinforce, and love is an incredible blessing.  In rational moments, I’m glad to endure some hard mommy moments in exchange for the wealth of experiences and memories made with their grandparents.

As much as I enjoy the work I do, my kids are really proud of me, too.  When we’re having our “what happened today” conversations, I get to tell Bailey about all the babies and children who have the benefit of two loving parents in their lives because of the work my company does.  The pride she feels and the fact that I’m modeling for her what I preach – that she can do anything and be anything – is enough to give guilt a high-heeled kick in the pants!

So, do these benefits outweigh the disadvantages?  I honestly don’t know the answer to that question, nor would my answer be the same tomorrow as it is today.  What I DO know is that I have two great kids who will never want for love, guidance, or the discipline and boundaries they need to grow into the kind of adults I want them to become.  And that makes my heart happier than any amount of time with them could.

But, just in case I happen to win the keputusan Lotto lottery one day, I bookmarked some You Tube videos on making soap at home.  I’m just sayin’….

Man Cave

No Man is an Island Jack

In 1986, Robin Williams starred in a movie of great acclaim, Club Paradise. The title of this post, a line from that movie, is my homage to the film and to the fact that real men need other men.

This line has stuck with me through my life mainly because of its humor. There’s a scene in the movie where one of the characters tells Robin Williams (whose name is Jack) that, “No man is an island, Jack.” Another one of the characters hears this line, doesn’t realize there’s a comma in there or that it’s a famous quote, and immediately makes a song out of it. “No man is an island, Jack.” becomes “No man is an Island Jack” and Island Jack is born.

While the Club Paradise movie may or may not be the best inspiration for a blog post on what constitutes a real man, that famous line from it certainly is.

While times of solitude are certainly important for real men, a real man knows that he is not an island and that he needs friendships with other men if he’s going to make it in this life.

The problem with our culture in the U.S. is that too many of us are caught up in the false notion of independence as a virtue. If you don’t believe me, just take a few minutes and think about the title of the document that kicked off the revolutionary war that started our country. (The funny thing about the Declaration of INDEPENDENCE was that it actually required a great solidarity among men to make it happen and carry it out to fruition… but we forget that today sometimes.)

In today’s world, and for the last couple hundred years, men have been taught to pick themselves up by the bootstraps and to make their own way. It’s the whole, “Go west young man, go west!” idea played out to its worst extremes.

And yet the reality remains that men need other men. The earliest people to inhabit this earth knew this instinctively. As a matter of fact, for most of human history, with the last few hundred years being the exception, people lived together in tribes. In the grand scheme of things, the idea of the independent and self-made man is a relatively new (and largely unproven) idea.

Life is going to be difficult at times and the people who depend on us need us to be strong men who go to bat for them and get us through those times. When life goes to crap, we only have so much inherent strength within us that we can draw from to make it through. When that strength is depleted, where will you go to replenish yours? Don’t put that on the woman in your life. It’s not her burden to bear. No, when life requires more strength than we as individual men can muster, we need to draw from the fellowship of other men who have been through whatever it is that’s depleting our strength.

When life get’s tough, we need other men who know us to the core. We all have friends who know us to some degree, but when life requires great strength, we need men who know our strengths as well as our weaknesses. Men who will call us out when they see us on the verge of making a colossal mistake. Men who will lift us up when we fail and stand beside us in adversity.

Do you have men like that in your life? Does your life look more tribal or more nomadic? If you answered nomadic, I encourage you to find other men who also realize that life is a journey and that journeys are not meant to be taken alone.

I think this idea is part of what made the men of the Greatest Generation so great. The men of that generation went to war together. They fought the enemy and the elements together. At times they slept back to back in foxholes at night supporting each other. They never left another man behind. And despite how the horrors of war impacted many of them in negative ways, they developed a great appreciation for the value of fellowship with other men.

I want to be the kind of man who has deep bonds of friendship with other men. I want men in my life who know my struggles, who know my strengths, and who aren’t afraid to run out onto the battlefield and pull me back to safety when they see me wounded. And I want to do the same for them.

No man is an Island Jack but a group of islands is an archipelago… think about it.

*Thank you Jimmy Cliff for the sweet reggae.

You can find more “Finding Manhood” essays here.

Man Cave

Wading Through the Wackiness of College Football

It’s a good thing I don’t gamble on sports.  I’d have better luck picking Powerball numbers than predicting the outcome of college football games much less how the season is going to play out.  This year on the gridiron is like a science experiment gone wrong.  There is no hypothesis to be made, because there are no trends, no consistent data, no rhyme, no reason, only random chaos. 

Baylor QB Robert Griffin has the Bears bowl eligible and in first place in the Big 12 South.

How else can you describe what’s happening in the Big 12?  Baylor, yes Baylor is in first place in the Big 12 South.  This is the same Baylor that’s been a doormat of the conference for more than a decade.  Eight games into the season and the Bears are bowl eligible for the first time since 1994.  Right now, Baylor looks every bit as good as Oklahoma, Texas, and Oklahoma State.  Maybe better.  I can’t believe I just typed that sentence. 

Try to wrap your brain around this:  Oklahoma blasts Iowa State 52-0; the Cyclones then dominate Texas in Austin, the same Texas team that just came off a convincing road win at previously unbeaten Nebraska.  Those same Huskers that were locked up by the ‘Horns, go to Stillwater and hang 51 on the undefeated Cowboys. 

But the wackiness isn’t limited to the Big 12.  The number one team has now fallen in three straight weeks.  That hasn’t happened since 1960.  Maybe the most bizarre part of it all is the fact that a computer gets to decide how an eventual champion will be determined.  Ever try arguing with a computer?  I’ve yelled at, sworn at, and pleaded with my computer, but it can’t be reasoned with.  The folks at the BCS obviously think computers are smarter than humans.  I won’t win that debate, so let me just make some general comments and predictions that will surely go wrong because they come from my feeble human brain.

WHAT HAPPENED TO OU AND OSU?

Sooner fans, let me be clear.  Your team was badly exposed and outplayed the other night in Columbia.  OU was not, is not, and won’t be the best team in college football this year.  To think otherwise is simply delusional.  The Sooners were not worthy of the number one BCS ranking, and there is a laundry list of reasons. 

Landry Jones and the Sooners got sacked by Mizzou.

First, the best team in the country doesn’t turn the ball over twice inside the opponent’s 20 yard line.  Second, a team that can win a national title is a team that can rush the quarterback effectively and tackle in the secondary.  The Sooners can do neither.  Third, the quarterback for the best team in the country doesn’t continually pull this Jekyll and Hyde act.  Landry Jones is one player at home, and a complete mess on the road.  Staring down your intended receiver is not a trait of the leader of the best team in the land.  Fourth, the last time I checked you are the University of freaking Oklahoma.  With your history and tradition, you are one of the powers in college football.  Why in the name of Bud Wilkinson can’t you find someone who can kick a 30 yard field goal?  Please tell me why the coaching staff isn’t bringing in one of the country’s best high school kickers year after year?  A big time football program like the one in Norman has no excuse for this.  None.  Fifth, and maybe most importantly, the best team in the country doesn’t quit.  How else do you describe what Bob Stoops did when he elected to punt with two minutes left?  No, you’re probably not going to win the game, but what kind of message does punting send to your players and to your fans?  It says we’ve lost, we’re done, let’s get this over with please.  

Nebraska ran away from OSU, piling up 540 yards in a 51-41 victory.

The message to Oklahoma State fans is much simpler.  If your team is ever going to contend for a South title or a conference title, you must have a defense.  The last decade in Stillwater has seen a carousel of coordinators with very limited results.    Right now OSU ranks 97th in the country in total defense, but 3rd in total offense.  Sadly, it’s the same song, different verse for the Cowboys.  Oklahoma State hasn’t had a defensive player drafted in the first round since Kevin Williams in 2003.  There just isn’t enough top-notch talent on that side of the ball coming through Stillwater.  Put a halfway decent defense with the Pokes’ offensive talent, and there’s a team I will believe in.

WHO WINS THE BIG 12 CHAMPIONSHIP?

Maybe it’s too soon after the weekend, but I have very little confidence in OU being able to run the table.  The Sooners are abysmal on the road and tough tests remain in Waco, College Station, and Stillwater.  On the other hand, I can’t pick OSU because the meat of the Cowboys’ schedule is still ahead, and did I mention their defense?  Texas is done, and Baylor might just be the best team in the South.  I’m going to repeat this sentence three times: “Baylor wins the Big 12 South.”  Every time I say it, it sounds more absurd.  I’m not ready for it.  Sorry Bears, I’ll go with OU by default. 

Is Bo Pelini the man to lead the Huskers back to prominence?

My gut tells me Nebraska is the best team in the conference, and I see a massive let down for Mizzou when the Tigers invade Lincoln this week.  I love Bo Pelini’s coaching style and his intensity, no way the Huskers are dropping two straight at home.  Nebraska takes its first step back to being the program it was in the 90’s by winning the Big 12 championship.

WHICH TEAM IS REALLY THE BEST TEAM IN THE COUNTRY?

Not an easy answer, but I believe Alabama is the most complete team I’ve seen.  Sure, the Tide lost to South Carolina, but the loss was early enough in the season for Nick Saban’s team to recover.  Alabama has two of the criteria I’m looking for in a title contender.  Mark Ingram and Trent Richardson makeup the best backfield in the country, and if Saban will just stick with the ground game for four quarters, the Tide can roll all the way to a championship.  ‘Bama also plays great defense, a defense that will be meet it’s toughest test when Auburn comes to Tuscaloosa on November 26th. 

Auburn won’t get past Alabama, and I don’t see Oregon going unscathed either.  The Ducks go to USC, have to get by Arizona at home, then survive the Civil War against Oregon State in Corvalis.  Chip Kelly has done a phenomenal job with that team, but a one loss Oregon team isn’t going to pass a one loss Alabama team.

I can’t convince myself that Michigan State is for real (maybe if the Spartans win at Iowa this week), and even though Boise State and TCU deserve to be highly ranked, I can’t label them as the best because of the competition they face. 

‘Bama plays Boise for the national championship and the Crimson Tide, improbable as it may sound, finds a way to win back to back titles. 

(I can’t wait to come back to this column after the season and see just how far off I was!)

WHO WINS THE HEISMAN TROPHY?

Sadly this award has become a trophy for the best player on a front running team.  The number in the loss column matters more than all the other stats combined.  That said, right now it’s Cam Newton’s to lose.  If the Auburn quarterback leads his team to victory in Tuscaloosa, there’s no way he’s not hoisting that bronze statue.

WHICH TEAM IS MOST OVERRATED?

Missouri.  Major props for beating a mistake prone and highly overrated Oklahoma team on your home field, but I’m not ready to buy in to the Tigers just yet.  Mizzou’s non-conference schedule featured a long list of puff pastries, and again the toughest game to date was at home.  I’ll maintain that OU lost that game more than Mizzou won it.  I’d also like to see Blaine Gabbert complete a pass over 15 yards.  The Tigers have a chance to prove me wrong this weekend at Nebraska.  Win in Lincoln and you’ll get rid of the overrated tag in a hurry.  But for now, I’m not a believer.

WHICH TEAM IS MOST UNDERRATED?

Utah.  Nobody is talking about the Utes even though they’re undefeated.  Kyle Whittingham’s team is 14th in the country in total offense and 5th in total defense.  In other words, the Utes are getting it done on both sides of the ball.  You want style points?  Utah is beating up the opposition by an average of 35 points per game.  This team shouldn’t be under the radar because of what its accomplished over the last few years.  The Utes haven’t lost a bowl game under Whittingham and have two BCS bowl victories to their credit.  If the Utes get through this current gauntlet of games (at Air Force, vs. TCU, at Notre Dame), there’s no way they should be ignored.

Take that computers.

Oklahoma culture, The Stage

And if THAT Doesn’t Work for a Halloween Costume, Try This…

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by Joey Rodman

Having trouble deciding what to be for Halloween?

Broke?

Apathetic?

Expected to wear something to work or a party? Here are my very best ideas for last minute super cheap costumes:

For Men ~

Cereal Killer:  Wear your every day wardrobe, carry around a box of cereal that’s been maimed.  Add fake blood.

Arthur Dent: Wear your bathrobe (wear sweats underneath!) and carry around a tea-cup.  Look confused…

Ghost Hunter: Wear sweats and a hoodie, carry around an old remote control, wave it around while talking about *EMF fields.

For Women~

Your Mother: Embrace it.  Say all the things she says. Wear the dorky clothes she wears; borrow an outfit from her if you can.  Just be sure not to make the parody too close or she’ll never forgive you.

80’s Girl: You know you want to…good thing they still make Aqua-Net.  Embarrass everyone around you, it’ll be great! Bonus points for attempting a “Cyndi Lauper.”

Cat, mouse, dog, or other animal: Cut out said animal’s ears from construction paper and tape it to a headband. Wear whatever you want and pin a tail to your butt.  Growl, snarl, hiss, etc. at anyone who says you’re not wearing a “real costume.”  The sell is all in the threat of rabies; be sure to look a little mad.

~Joey Rodman

*Electromagnetic Fields

Homestead and Garden, Oklahoma culture, Uncategorized

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch: Back In The Saddle

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hugh
Hugh sittin' proud on his new horse Andy. It's only a matter of time before Hugh outgrows this saddle he has had since he was eight months old.
saddle
Judy's saddle purchased for the second time. I'm the lucky one who got to use it on this trail ride.

I’m sure there is a story behind Gene Autrey’s old song “I’m Back In The Saddle Again.”

I’m not sure what it is… but from now on I’m going to think about this one:

When Judy Hart Nelson was nine years old, she convinced her dad that riding a horse was not just a passing fancy.  She wanted a real saddle.  They went to a local horse tack auction near Chickasha, OK and purchased one for her.  She used that same saddle on her horse, Cupcake, until it was time for her to go off to college and then Cupcake was sold.  The saddle went into the attic.  A few years later, thinking that her horse-riding days were over, Judy also sold the saddle.

Twenty five years passed.

Circumstances allowed Judy to return to the countryside where she could own a few horses.  After Judy’s dad died in 2007, she recalled the special memory of their trip to the horse auction.  It made her wonder about that old saddle.  Amazingly, the man who purchased the saddle entered Judy’s workplace on business and Judy decided to ask him about the saddle that held so many special memories for her.

The saddle had been used as an elk hunting saddle in Colorado.  It was sturdy and had carried many elk for this avid hunter.  Judy didn’t care what shape it was in.  She asked to buy it back, and he let her.

Judy’s son, Hugh Hart Nelson, is nine years old and is just about to outgrow the saddle he got from his dad before he even reached his first birthday.  Soon he and his parents will make a trip to an auction or tack shop to purchase the saddle he will use for the rest of his life.

No doubt this saddle they choose for her son Hugh will not get to see the same adventures as Judy’s old saddle unless it’s with its owner.  Judy has learned her lesson.

“Whoopi-ty-aye-oh

Rockin’ to and fro

Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-yay

I go my way

Back in the saddle again.”

Back In the Saddle Again lyrics/ Gene Autry (click link to enjoy the song)

Man Cave

Are Our Sports Becoming Wimpy?

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America was once thought of as a tough, gritty nation.  A country of sweat and hard work.  Our men were men, and nowhere was that better reflected than on the football field.  Names like Butkus, Kramer, Nitschke, Bednarik, and Ditka were known for their blue-collar mentality.  Guys like that would clothesline their own grandmother if it meant getting a stop on fourth down.  Mess with them, and you got messed up.  They relished every hit because contact is at the very core of football.

Hall of Fame linebacker Dick Butkus, not the man you want to meet in the open field.

Now I’m afraid the NFL is trying to change the nature of its great game.  This week, the league issued a statement saying players will be suspended for “head shots” and “devastating” hits.  The announcement came on the heels of a particularly hard-hitting weekend.  Steelers’ linebacker James Harrison sent two Browns players to the sidelines with head injuries.  Falcons’ defensive back Dunta Robinson leveled Eagles’ receiver DeSean Jackson and both men sustained concussions.  Patriots’ safety Brandon Merriweather went helmet to helmet with Ravens’ tight end Todd Heap, snapping Heap’s head back and leaving him prone on the turf for several minutes.

Yes, these hits were vicious and violent.  Yes, there is a chance one of these collisions could have life-altering consequences.  But the NFL overreacted and failed to even define what constitutes a “devastating” hit.  Robinson’s hit was certainly devastating, but it was clean.  The league disagreed however, and fined Robinson $50,000.  Merriweather will also have to pay fifty grand for his hit, and Harrison will be docked $75,000.

Steelers' linebacker James Harrions levels Browns' receiver Mohamed Massaquoi in the second quarter of last Sunday's game. Massaquoi did not return after the hit. (courtesy bleacherreport.com)

Nobody wants to see serious injuries or concussions that could lead to brain damage.  But in case the NFL wasn’t aware of this, nobody is playing football against their will.  Every player on every NFL roster is fully aware of the risks and potential for bodily harm when they step onto the field.  Contact is at the very heart of football, and if players didn’t expect it or want it, they’d take up golf or tennis or bowling.

Dolphins’ linebacker Channing Crowder summed it up perfectly when he said, “A garbage man is going to stink after he gets out of work, because he deals with garbage all day, right?  If you play football, you have a chance to get hit in the head. You’re going to get a concussion because you have on a helmet and people are going to hit you with their helmet. So if you don’t want to get hit in the head, don’t play football.”

Brian Urlacher is known as one of the sports true tough guys, and the Bears’ linebacker echoed the sentiments of Crowder. “It’s freaking football. There are going to be big hits.  I don’t understand how they can do this after one weekend of hitting. And I can’t understand how they can suspend us for it. I think it’s a bunch of bull (crap).

“You know what we should do? We should just put flags on everybody. Let’s make it the NFFL — the National Flag Football League. It’s unbelievable.”

This new policy is much easier said than done for the NFL.  How do you change a defensive player’s mentality?  A player is taught to do whatever it takes to separate an offensive player from the football or prevent him from making a catch.  Does the safety need to run full speed at a receiver then pull up at the last second?  In a league where split second decisions make the difference between stops and touchdowns, can you really expect these guys to forget their training, forget their instincts, and contemplate the consequences of a hit.  It’s ridiculous.

Oklahoma City sports radio host Jim Traber likes to rant on what he calls, “the sissification of America.”  Well, here’s exhibit A for you, Jim.

The people who want to make football less violent are the same people who want to take fighting out of hockey.  Sorry, no can do hippie.  Fighting is part of the game, always has been.  Hockey players are men who stand up for their teammates by dropping the gloves.  It’s the way scores are settled and there’s nothing dirty about it.  Every team has players known as “enforcers” who know their roles and know how much that role means to the energy, enthusiasm and overall attitude of their team.  You can tinker with other rules all you want, but you can’t take fighting out of hockey because you would be changing the sport at its core.

Scraps like this one have always been part of hockey. Let's hope it stays that way.

I don’t see boxing changing its rules.  I don’t see the UFC doing anything drastic to protect its fighters.  Why?  Because these are violent sports.  It’s what the fans expect and want to see, and again, the participants know exactly what they’re getting themselves into.

Why doesn’t the NFL look into changing the overtime rules, or the absurd rule that allows coaches to call time-out right before a kicker attempts a field goal?  Why doesn’t the league re-examine pass interference or how a receiver has to possess a ball all the way to the ground?  Better yet, how about rethinking health insurance and benefits for players after they retire.  Right now the NFL only provides medical coverage for five years after retirement.  Why not invest some of those billion dollar profits into better insurance or toward improving helmet technology?

Cheap shots and deliberate head to head hits should continue to be fined.  Go ahead and suspend players if you want to send a stronger message.  But please NFL, don’t ask these players to dial it down a notch.  Don’t change the fundamental thing that makes football great.  America is a tough country, let’s play our football the same way.

Man Cave

6’4″, 29, 220

Editor’s Note: For two months now, we’ve featured “Finding Manhood” on our Man Cave page as one of our partnership blogs we recommend.  We’re pleased to announce that beginning each Wednesday, we’ll now have a feature from their “Best Of” archives to share with our community.  Finally…regular Man Cave stuff AND Sports stuff!  I loved this post, and am glad it was chosen to kick off this weekly segment – Red Dirt Kelly

***

It could be said that I am a big college football fan. It could also be said that I’m an even bigger University of Oklahoma (OU) college football fan.

My dad started taking me to games in Norman when I was a little kid and that tradition has continued into adulthood. In those rare occasions when I’ve been unable to make it to Norman for a game that is not televised, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to be a part of Bob Barry’s play-by-play color commentary on the radio for the better part of my life.

While there’s a lot I could say about Bob Barry and his style of radio announcing, the one thing that has stood out to me over the years is the way he introduces the players at both the beginning of the game and as they check into the huddle. After saying a player’s name and usually his hometown, Bob most always follows it with three numbers. For years I had no idea what the numbers were until one day a good friend cleared it up for me.

Each time a new player comes on the field, Bob says their height, age, and weight after announcing their name and the town they are from. Because I didn’t realize what that was until later in life, I always find it really amusing anytime I hear it now. For example, if I were walking out to the huddle for my debut as the starting left tackle for the University of Oklahoma, those listening to 107.7 KRXO FM in the greater Oklahoma City area would hear: “Michael Mitchell subbing in for the Sooners from Oklahoma City. 6’4″, 29, 220.”

Amusing though I find it, those 3 numbers really do matter in the game of college football… sometimes (see story about Darren Sproles below). If you tell me a guy’s age, his height, and his weight, you’ve told me a lot about him as a football player. I can generally gauge by his age the level of maturity and in-game instinct he’s going to have on the field. Obviously, his height and weight tell me a lot about his physical development and strength… how much power he’s going to pack. I like Bob Barry’s system because I like making snap judgments and it gives me a very quick, very simple shortcut to size a guy up.

As men, many of us are a lot like Bob Barry in that respect. We carry around numbers in our heads that are important to us and that we compare to the numbers of other men we know.

As we get older, the numbers we carry around in our heads are no longer our height, age, and weight…though for some men all three of Bob Barry’s numbers remain a big part of their identity.

And while it’s likely that you probably don’t care too much about your own height, age, and weight (unless you’re extreme in any of them to the point of medical danger), you probably carry around other numbers that you think ARE important.

For some men, it’s our salary. The more zeros at the end, the better, right? For other men, the number that matters is the number of letters we have after our names. For some of us, it’s the square footage of our homes or the number of toys our kids get on their birthdays. For others, it’s our golf handicap. And for some of us, it’s the dollar amount of our retirement account. (I do enjoy a good rhyme.)

No matter what numbers you carry around in your head, the fact remains that as men a lot of us have a hard time being comfortable in our own skin without comparing ourselves to others. We place way too much value on numbers that really don’t matter.

The problem with the numbers we carry around is at least two-fold.

First, much like the game of football, no matter what number we use from which to base our evaluations of ourselves and comparisons to other men, there’s always going to be someone with a better number than us. In football, it’s usually the left tackle.  But even the biggest left tackle always has someone coming up behind him that is: A) younger; B) probably taller; and, 3) heavier.

Maybe my income has 6 zeroes in it. (It doesn’t), but if it did, there’d be someone else out there who has 7. The same goes for my golf score (I don’t play), the number of fish I caught the last time I fished (less than my limit), the size of my home, the value of my investments, the horsepower of my car, my kid’s IQ, etc. etc. etc. The list could go on forever. And just like in the game of college football, there will always be someone with a better number.

The second way our numbers as men are similar to Bob Barry’s college football numbers is that often times they are both misleading and flat-out DON’T MATTER. While age, height, and weight are a quick way of sizing up a college football player, often times they are actually not the most important factors. We’ve all seen those guys who dominated the game of college football despite seemingly meager numbers. As an OU football fan, the name Darren Sproles comes to my mind. Sproles, who now plays on Sundays for the San Diego Chargers, is listed at 5′ 6″ and 185 pounds. He’s beefed up since his college days.

In 2003, despite his tiny stature, Sproles (who played for Kansas State) shredded the undefeated and highly touted OU defense in the Big Twelve Championship game leading to a 35-7 upset. Since then, he’s gone on to have a pretty good career in the National Football League. And yet, if you look at the guy on paper, his numbers betray him. And while I’ve never met the guy, I get the feeling that the one thing that REALLY sets him apart is a number that is impossible (at least for us non-medical professionals) to judge… that is, the size of his heart.

As men it’s really tempting to get caught up in the game of evaluating and comparing ourselves to other men based on whatever numbers we, or they, have deemed important. However I’ve recently started to meet and read about men that don’t fit the mold in this area. Men who may or may not have impressive numbers, but who just flat-out don’t give a damn.

These are men who evaluate themselves on intrinsic things that can’t easily be sized up with a quick number. Things like the amount of passion with which they face life, the way they treat other people, their own level of self-discipline, etc. These men have a sort of strength that draws other people to them. Call it resiliency, call it the mountain man persona, call it whatever you want to call it – but men like this don’t need numbers.

Despite the fact that these men probably have impressive numbers to boast, they find their value in simply being what they were created to be. Living life with gusto. Holding doors for little old ladies. Trying risky things even if it means failing more than they succeed. Taking care of their physical, mental, and emotional health. Taking care of their families. Making the decision to live a life of discipline. Getting up at 5 a.m. every day just because it’s difficult.

That’s the kind of man I want to be. Until then, I’m 6’4″ 29 220.

***

Michael Mitchell is a new daddy and the husband of a friend.  I’ll let him introduce more of himself as he sees fit.  Afterall, I don’t want to be puttin’ up some wrong “numbers,” yo! – RDK

Homestead and Garden

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch: It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere

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big goat
One of our regulars.

 

It’s the end of a long work week, but my work day is not over.

At 5 o’clock I’m the most popular (and only) person working at The Goat Shed.  The thirteen patrons belly up to the bar consisting of three feed troughs.  It’s not peanuts and beer….it’s water and sweet feed….but these customers know what they want, and part of what they want is good customer service.

They have come to the right place.  Let’s get this party started.

 

Julie and the kids
We love kids at The Goat Shed.

 

Man Cave

Laying Blame for College Sports Scandals

As a sports fan, I am no longer shocked or surprised by anything.  I’m guessing I’m not alone here.  Athletes get arrested at an alarming rate.  Rarely does a day go by without hearing of some sort of cheating, whether its performance enhancing drugs or marital infidelity.  Suspensions, violations, and probations are now expected during the course of any professional or college sports season.

Manny Ramirez got busted for taking a female fertility drug.  Yawn.  Brett Favre allegedly sent pictures of his privates to a woman while playing with the Jets.  Whatever.  Ben Roethlisberger had an “encounter” with a college student in the bathroom of a bar.  Double yawn.  Tiger Woods led a secret life, and slept with who knows how many women in who knows how many states.  I give it a shoulder shrug and a raised eyebrow.  Even if Lance Armstrong, the last hope for integrity and truth in sports, is proven guilty of doping, will we really be blown away?  I might bat an eyelash, but I’m not going to be floored.  In fact, my initial thought will probably be something along the lines of, “that took longer than I expected.”  Sad but true.

Scandal has become synonymous with sports.  It’s like acne on a teenager, it’s assumed.  We’re not nearly as appalled at the sports landscape as we used to be.  When was the last time you really gasped at a scandal?  It’s been a while hasn’t it?  There’s no more surprise, no more shock, no more asking “how can this be!?”  American sports fans are desensitized and apathetic toward all of it.

Former NFL agent Josh Luchs confessed to paying players (photo courtesy of SI.com)

 The latest example came this week when Josh Luchs, a former NFL agent, admitted to Sports Illustrated that he broke NCAA rules and regularly paid college football players.  In his first person article, Luchs says he gave hand outs to players in hopes they would sign with him.  I appreciate Luchs’ candor and the glimpse behind the scenes of what really goes on between agents and college players, but am I stunned by any of his revelations?  No. 

This is simply another kind of behavior that has come to be expected in the world of college athletics.  At this point, if you’re like me, you’re almost completely numb to any kind of NCAA violation.  Big schools cheat.  Small schools cheat.  Coaches have impermissible contact with recruits.  Players take money.  And the world turns.

Sure, there have always been schools out there breaking the rules, but today these violations are so pervasive it’s hard to find a university that doesn’t have a blemish on its record.  Our alma mater may cheat, but as long as we’re winning, it’s pretty easy to look the other way. 

I think I’m ready to come out of my scandal induced coma, and propose some real changes.  Not because I’m angry or disappointed or betrayed, but because I’m just so sick and tired of hearing about it.

There is plenty of blame to go around here, but a good chunk of it lands right in the lap of the NCAA.  It’s an archaic, poorly run bureaucracy that needs to be fixed.  When I think of the leaders of the NCAA, I think of a group of old men sitting around a table in a dimly lit room.  They are wearing glasses, suspenders, and bow ties, and they’re churning out new rules so quickly that their typewriters are smoking.  They are so far removed from what life is actually like on a college campus.  They know nothing of what a coach has to deal with or what it’s really like to be a “student-athlete.”  And they don’t care.

Listen up NCAA…there are TOO MANY rules.  How much time, effort, and money do you spend as an organization just investigating infractions?  I’m willing to bet it’s a bunch.  Why?  Because you’re creating rules faster than you can enforce them. 

Why not lighten up on the recruiting rules?  There are hundreds of rules coaches are expected to follow, and I can’t blame them for slipping up from time to time.  There is a limit to the number of phone calls and number of texts a coach can send.  There are only certain times of the year when recruiting is “open.”  It’s kind of like deer season.  There are certain periods when the recruit can sign a letter of intent.  There are rules for how a coach can recruit a high school junior and different rules for a high school senior.  There are rules for when and how a recruit can take a visit to a campus, and there are rules for what can and cannot happen during that visit.  Try reading the NCAA recruiting guidelines for division one football.  Go ahead try it.  It will make your head spin. 

A simple logo for a complex organization (courtesy ncaa.org)

The NCAA could do away with most of these rules.  The NCAA will tell you there must be a level playing field, and the kids have to be protected.  Remember the NCAA really cares about the kids.  Since when is a high school kid incapable of turning off his phone or throwing away his mail?  Let coaches pursue the kids, and let the kids decide when and how they want to.  Less red tape would mean fewer violations, fewer probations, and maybe coaches could get back to coaching.

Not only do these silly rules cost the NCAA money to enact and enforce, they cost the universities millions of dollars every year.  Every school now has to hire a compliance staff to keep up with the ever-changing NCAA legislation.  These compliance officers are paid to make sure players are eligible, see that no violations are occurring, and educate the coaching staffs to the new rules.  Have these compliance staffs solved the problems?  Are there fewer violations now than there used to be?  No and not even close.

This isn’t to say that some rules are needed.  I don’t think players should be allowed to take money from agents or have contact with agents.  But it’s the agents who deserve the brunt of the punishment, not the players, and certainly not the entire program.  Should the current players on the USC football team really suffer because Reggie Bush accepted benefits from an agent?  It’s absurd.

Why should current Trojans be punished for Reggie Bush's transgressions? (courtesy renovomedia.com)

The NCAA seems to think more regulations will equal cleaner programs.  It’s a nice concept, but it’s wrong.  There are more regulations than ever, and there’s more cheating than ever before.  Everyday brings a new headline.

UConn Men’s Basketball Team Admits Major Violations, Florida Football Misuses Facebook Commits Four Minor NCAA Violations, NCAA Accuses Michigan Coach of Violations, Memphis Forced to Vacate Wins from Final Four Season, NCAA places Alabama football on Probation, Trojans Hammered for Lack of Institutional Control…

And on, and on, and on we go.

I’m not naive enough to think that cheating can be eradicated from college sports or any sport for that matter.   Coaches and players will continue to come up with ways to cut corners and gain a competitive edge.  Those that do should be punished.  However, I’m exasperated by the callous nature of the NCAA and the complete refusal of this institution to look inward and recognize that widespread changes need to be made.  I don’t think we have to be so far away from cleaning up the landscape of college athletics.  I’m frustrated by the stubborn refusal of an organization to change.

I think I will remain mostly numb but I don’t want to feel this way anymore.  So please NCAA, please help me change.  Help me to see violations as the exception, not the norm.  Help me to care, help me get rid of the cynical sports fan inside of me.  That way if I am shocked, it will mean that scandal is rare instead of prevalent.  I want to feel again, I want to care, I want to be the sports fan of my youth.  Please NCAA, look deep into the blackness that is your soul, and try to change so I can change.

Woman2Woman

I’m Good Enough, I’m Smart Enough and Doggone It, People Like Me!

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If you’ve never heard of Stuart Smalley, you were either living under a rock in the early 90’s or are too young to be using the Internet without adult supervision.  As a teenager, nothing could trigger hysterical laughter like the hapless yet hopeful SNL character.  Every skit ended with emotionally vulnerable Stuart speaking affirmations into a mirror in efforts to make it through another day breakdown-free.

 

Stuart Smalley - SNL hit character for many years. Photo retrieved from: http://randomroger.blogspot.com/2010/09/man-versus-machine.html

 

Stuart struggled with poor self-esteem, an issue I’ve been thinking about quite a bit lately.  With the ongoing debate over too-skinny models in the fashion industry and movies and television depicting unattainable images as the standard of womanhood, it’s no wonder many women feel they can’t quite measure up.  What I learned recently, however, is how early these messages start chiseling away at us.  My daughter is six and, like many children, has always possessed the kind of confidence that seems to burst forth from her in every word and action.  Take a look at this video that’s been making the rounds and you’ll see just what I’m talking about!   (click photo to activate video)

Like little Jessica, my daughter has never hesitated to claim being the smartest in her grade and insists on tackling tasks far outside her skill set.  Recently, though, I’ve noticed some changes in the way she views herself.  When she can’t read a word, she reacts as though she might as well kiss her higher education hopes goodbye.  She has even started comparing her body with others, often telling me that she’s “fatter” than the other girls.  While this is uncharted parent territory, I do remember my own struggles with self-esteem as a child and teenager and I know how hard it was.  Just ask my mom about the year I ate only Ramen noodles and my hair started falling out as a result of my quest to be skinny (and no, I never got skinny ENOUGH, whatever that means).  Simply put, we tend to make unwise decisions when we start to devalue ourselves and this can have potentially devastating consequences, particularly for young girls.

Many of you probably remember being as bold as Jessica as a child, declaring your many talents to anyone who would listen.  But as you got older, “bragging” became less acceptable and was replaced with the daunting task of being humble.  Don’t get me wrong, humility is important and I certainly want to instill that value in my children.  I also feel that there’s a fine line between being confident and being self absorbed.  However, in the journey down the well-intentioned path of humility, I think some of us missed a turn and ended up on a detour of self loathing.  And we’ve stayed there under the false pretense of modesty.

My wish is for my daughter to feel MORE THAN good enough and to know that it’s okay to cheer for herself at the same time she’s cheering for others.  I want her to celebrate all the traits that make her unique and special.  Otherwise, the opinions or unkind words of others may become her measure of success, beauty and worth.  While I don’t have all the parenting answers, I have chosen to spend more time lately dialoguing about what she likes about herself and what makes her feel special.

More than anything through pondering this issue, I’ve realized that the way I feel about myself today will have a profound impact on how she feels about herself in the future.  As much as I say and do all the right things where she is concerned, many days I don’t speak to or about myself very well.  How can my daughter learn to believe in and love herself if her mother doesn’t practice what she preaches?

Knowing that she’s watching and listening is the strongest motivator for change. Just don’t expect a reenactment of Jessica’s video to be up on You Tube any time soon, as the bathroom cabinet probably can’t hold my weight.

Dangit.

Change is hard.  There’s always tomorrow, right?!

Homestead and Garden

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch: Playin’ With Fire

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Do you remember being intrigued by ants as a kid?  They were usually associated with summer, picnics, ant farms, and that red and white checkered tablecloth.  For me…not anymore. The intrigue is gone.

I love Saturdays.  I took advantage of my husband’s solo trip to the lumber yard to give my dusty horses a much needed bath. Completing the task and holding the lead rope of the last horse in one hand, I stepped over the to the water faucet to roll up the water hose with the other hand.  Within seconds I felt something…like tall blades of grass at my ankles.  Weird.  I’m not even standing in tall grass. A quick glance at my shoes revealed the unexpected….hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny little red fire ants had swarmed onto my tennis shoes.

 

The Enemy

 

Fire ants. They have been in the U.S. since the 1930’s, coming to us via ships from Brazil.  They build nests near water and have been known to take down small animals.  This ain’t no picnic ant, people.  These guys are tiny and if you see one, you may think it to be harmless.  Don’t look away.  Within seconds the rest of the army will join the attack.  And the sting?  That’s where the ant gets its name.  You feel like you’re on fire. You’re safer holding a lighted match near a pile of dry wood drenched in gasoline than standing on a fire ant bed.

Jumping up and down didn’t shake them.  I was still holding onto a horse, so I had to use my only free hand to wrangle the end of the water hose back into reach.  I sprayed my feet which removed most of them.  I swatted the tenacious ones crawling on up my legs and got the horse safely back to the pasture.  Then I ran like I had never run before to the pool and jumped in up to my knees.  I could not believe the pain.

Fire ants had tried to ruin my Saturday.  Instead, they ruined my Sunday.  I woke up with what looked like Poison Ivy on my hands and ankles.  Oh yeah.  It itched like Poison Ivy too.

***Sign on for more “Back at the Ranch” soon.  Julie mentions she’s got quite a few entries on the back burner.  Oops…I wrote “burner!” – Red Dirt Kelly

Foodie Page, Homestead and Garden, Oklahoma culture, Travel

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch: OKtober

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We have a little gem of a bakery out here in the country.  Backerman’s Bakery and Cheese Shoppe is a small Mennonite Bakery owned and run by a local Mennonite family.  The bakery is a fairly popular stop on Highway 64 and is one of the ways I get my friends to come visit me…I promise to take them to the bakery for a fried pie.

A brief amount of research on Mennonites in Oklahoma revealed that this group played a role in the Land Run of 1889.  They were key to helping Oklahoma become a major wheat-producing state.  Currently there are three Mennonite churches in the tiny town of Corn (formerly Korn) which only has about 591 residents.  Corn is located on the western prairie range, about twenty miles or so south of Weatherford.

Our local Mennonite community raises funds the first weekend in October in order to support their Mennonite school.   The Mennonite Oktoberfest celebrates German heritage treats (without the beer) and the goodness of community.  Of course, anytime I see an “O” and a “K” together, I think of Oklahoma; nothing screams “goodness of community” like my home state.Mennonite Girl

See more pictures from the most recent Oktoberfest, 2010.

Oklahoma culture

Body Check This: Locals Play Hockey, plus Barons Season Opens TODAY

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by Joey Rodman

Anyone who has ever met me realizes pretty quickly I’m a die hard baseball fan. From the beginning of spring training until the lingering days after the last game in the World Series, it’s almost all I think about. When postseason starts, I get a little sad. Okay, I get a little sadder. My original depression starts when my team gets mathematically eliminated, which – depending on the year, can be several weeks before postseason. That’s another story though.

Life as a baseball fan gets a little boring in the early fall when your team hasn’t made it to the World Series in over 100 years and likely won’t for another hundred. So, how do you fill the gap between October and Spring training? The logical answer in Oklahoma would be football. There’s only one problem though, I hate football. I tried to like it. I really, truly tried. And I failed. So, now I’m trying something new.

I found out a few months ago that Oklahoma City has a brand new hockey team. I began to research information about the sport. I first found that the only calendar day in the summer when nothing happens in baseball, something happens in hockey. This was looking good to me…then:

1. Hockey starts about the time that baseball ends, and ends about the time that baseball starts;
2. We have a local team, and;
3. It’s not football.

Hockey is my new off-season sport.

I looked around trying to figure out the rules and this website is the best one I’ve found. I still wanted to know more about the sport, however, so I set out to dig deeper. I found some local fans who play hockey for fun and went to one of their games. A few days later I sat down with the captain of the team and two players (who happen to be husband and wife) to ask some questions.  Nick is the captain; Paco and Pook are married:

How did you get started playing hockey?

Nick: The only reason I got into hockey was I married a Canadian. In a land where football is king, really hockey is the same thing as football. You have to be that skilled, but you’re doing it on two knives on ice. That’s why it amazes me that people say “I don’t like hockey” because it’s really like football on ice. I’ve hit a lot of home runs, but I think the best thing I’ve ever experienced was getting my first goal. I was shocked that I made contact with the puck, to be honest.

Paco: I’m from Sayre, Oklahoma – out West. When I was about 10 my parents built a roller rink in the town. About a year later we’re going to skating conventions in Las Vegas and there’s information about roller hockey. Eventually I convinced my parents to buy skates for me and my brother and we started our own roller hockey team.

Pook: Mine is actually totally different, I went ice skating with my friend in Thailand. I’m from Thailand. This guy came up to me and said he was trying to get a girls’ hockey team together. I played for a while in Thailand and then I came over here to go to school. When I finished school I wanted to play again and I met Paco on a hockey team.

Everything seems to happen so fast, I had a hard time figuring out what was going on. One second everyone would be going one direction, and the next second everyone is going in completely the opposite direction at full speed. How do you work together as a team when everything changes so quickly on the ice?

Nick: It’s really fast, in other sports like baseball, basketball or even football you have time to think. In hockey, you either have the puck or you don’t, it’s so fast paced you can’t think you have to rely on instinct. It’s hard for me because I can barely skate. I played almost every sport growing up. I like to think of myself as halfway athletic; I got most of my school paid for playing baseball. Hockey is one of those sports that you can’t play just because you can walk. Baseball, basketball, football, you’re basically running to get around. Hockey is a different beast – there’s an art to it.

Paco: I think a lot of it has to do with playing together, hockey is the only sport I’ve heard of that talks about chemistry with other players. You have to know who is going to be where and when.

Pook: Sometimes you think [a teammate] is going to be somewhere but they aren’t and you have to figure out quickly what to do about it.

I noticed the teams are co-ed. How does that work out?

Nick: What’s funny is this is our second season; we played in the summer and the winter. We had another woman in the summer, she was in her 50’s and she’d been playing for 20 years. She could skate and stick handle and she was really good. The women tend to hold their own; we haven’t had any problems. I’ve seen two other teams with women too. In our league, it’s a non-contact league because we’re all beginners. We don’t have a separate league for women and men so whoever wants to get out there and play can.

If someone reading this wanted to get involved in hockey how would they do that?

Nick: For an adult, the hardest part is getting out there. The first time I ever played hockey was in Canada against my wife’s 9 and 10 year-old cousins. The hardest part was swallowing my pride and getting out there, listening to them laugh at me – and they did quite a bit of laughing at me. There are some good websites out there like OKChockey.com and Dailyhockeydeal.com

or you can visit one of the local ice rinks and tell them you want to play.

As a kid, the best part of Oklahoma is they have a “learn to play” program called “Kids First”. Just take them to a rink and tell them you want your kid to learn how to play hockey. They’ll give them the equipment for free and let them play for 30 days, teach them the rules and let them try it out. If they want to play after that you just pay for the equipment (about $200 for kids) and they’ll put them on a team. If you don’t want to play then you just give the equipment back. It’s pretty easy for kids to get started.

Barons Blue & White Scrimmage - curteousy of OKC Barons Website

For those of us who are still a little too scared to play, you can always just watch the games. The OKC Barons season opener is Saturday (TODAY!) and as I’m typing this, tickets are still available. It’s also going to be broadcast on the radio.

"Pook and my girls, after the game" - photo by Joey Rodman
Man Cave, Oklahoma culture

The Little Things I Miss The Most

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More than a road sign, a sign of home and being back where I belong.

A few days ago I came back to Oklahoma for the first time in a couple of months.  I felt at home before my truck tires even touched the driveway of my parents’ house.  A comfortable feeling washed over me as soon as I crossed over the state line and saw that big “Welcome to Oklahoma” sign.  It was a sense of familiarity, belonging, and identity.  My license plate no longer says “Native America” but my head and my heart say I’ll always be an Okie.

 Sports is part of that identity.  It was so good to stop at a Loves’ station outside Sallisaw and see the t-shirts for sale.  Two choices, orange or crimson.  Back on the highway, the car in front of me showcased an upside down Longhorn sticker in its rear window.  A few miles more and another driver had his OSU car flags furiously flapping on both sides of the car.  Then the best of both worlds, when a car on the exit ramp displayed a “House Divided” license plate frame.  After shuffling through radio stations for hundreds of miles, the scanning stopped when I heard the familiar voices of my favorite sports talk hosts.   These are the little things I took for granted when I lived here for so many years.  People ask, “what do you miss about Oklahoma?”  The usual answers always come out first, family and friends, my house, my church, blah, blah, blah.  Crossing the state line the other day made me realize, it’s so much more than that, it’s the sports culture in this state I miss. (I miss you too Mom, no need to get offended here.)

If you’re from this state, you likely have a fierce allegiance to OU or OSU.  Pick a side and don’t turn back.  So many states are watered down with loyalty divided between several major universities and multiple professional franchises.  In Oklahoma, its simpler.  Our way of life is simple, our sports landscape is simple. 

Even though we may be divided along college lines, we can be united behind the Thunder.  I used to think pro sports wasn’t a good idea for Oklahoma.  We’ve got the great college atmosphere, we don’t need the NBA to enhance our status.  Let’s just say I’ve digested large quantities of crow.  This whole state has Thunder fever.  Even though I’ve never been a huge NBA fan, I miss the sense of pride that comes from proving the rest of the country wrong.  There’s room here for more than just college football.  Not only is Oklahoma worthy of the a team, it is quickly becoming one of the most respected franchises in the NBA.  The fan base is energized and unified by a team with players and coaches that represent our values and want to be part of this community.  Maybe this is silly or over the top, but in my mind, Thunder fans see the success of their team as a big slap in the face to the East Coast, West Coast, big cities, and so-called elites.  That’s the mentality of Oklahoma sports fans.  I love that mentality.  I miss that mentality.

The teams here are the major parts of Oklahoma sports culture, but again, it’s the little things I miss the most.  I miss reading the fishing report in the paper, seeing that largemouth are good on crankbaits at McGee Creek, then thinking about which one of my lures I’d use.  I miss Thursday night high school football.  Every week, a handful of games played before the rest where the schools get showcased and the kids feel that much more special.  I miss the public golf courses here.  You’re never far from a teebox in Oklahoma, and you can usually get in a round all the way into November. 

I miss the subtle jabs exchanged by Sooners and Cowboys over the airwaves.  I miss living and experiencing Bedlam every single day.  It’s not limited to the football field or the basketball court, Bedlam is alive and well at Wal-mart, at the bank, at the grocery store, and yes, even in the church sanctuaries. 

A rivalry that splits the state and even splits families, one of the best parts of our sports culture.

I miss the sports personalities here.  Like them or not, guys like Bob Barry Jr., Jim Traber, Al Eshbach, John Holcomb, and Al Jerkens are practically institutions in this state.  We come to expect those voices and those faces delivering our sports news, telling our sports stories, and asking questions on our behalf.  Why are guys like that popular?  Because they’re loyal to this state and can’t possibly see themselves living or working anywhere else. 

I miss hearing Bob Stoops say “in a good way” in every other sentence.  I miss Pistol Pete’s freakishly large head.  I miss hearing Bob Barry say “Touchdown Oklahoma!” and a high-pitched “pistols firing!” coming from the pipes of Dave Hunziker. 

One day maybe I’ll once again be a full-time resident of this great state.  I hope so.  No matter where I might lay my head, I will love Oklahoma and consider it home.  I will always know that there’s a bass to be caught in a farm pond, a Bedlam debate to be had, and a simple sports culture that suits me just fine.  The little things will stick with me.

Don’t worry Mom, I’ll miss you too.

Cents and Sensibility

Hey, Hecklers: Common Sense May Not Equate with Comment Cents

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Editor’s Note – I’d like to welcome guest contributor Jennifer Wallis to the Red Dirt Chronicles this morning.  Personal finance is an important area of our lives, and having someone like Jennifer around will be a great asset for both the readers AND contributors to the RDC.  Jennifer, I used “asset” as a word…can you tell I just read your post? –

Red Dirt Kelly

Most days, the audiences I teach in our financial education classes are open-minded and eager to learn. But, every once in while, I come face to face with that person sitting in the back of the room, arms folded, head tilted, apparently being held against their will who asks smugly, “Isn’t it just common sense to spend less than you make?”

This question conjures up feelings from long ago Trivial Pursuit games with one of my best friends, Marcy. While I love her like a sister, she has a white hot competitive streak. The girl hates to lose. I discovered her love for winning the hard way. Back in college, we were playing Trivial Pursuit and it was her turn to ask the question. She would look at the card, read the answer to herself and scoff, ‘Oh my gosh! This is SO easy!”  The question would invariably be something that I could never answer even if all of my brain synapses were firing perfectly.  “Who became the President of Kazakhstan in 1991?” she would ask as she rolled her baby blues at me. Of course, I would have no idea. She would then exclaim, “Wow! I can’t believe you don’t know that! It’s obviously Nursultan Nazarbayev.” Yes, of course, Nazarbayev. I can’t believe I didn’t get that one…

It’s something that we laugh about now. But, after her competitive trivia streak was revealed, we decided that for the sake of our friendship, Trivial Pursuit may not be the best idea. While I won’t kick the smug person out of their back seat in my financial education class, I do have a message for him/her.

First of all, saying that spending less than you make “is just common sense” implies that anyone living in debt has none. If you happen to be one of the Americans that owe a chunk of the $950 billion dollars in credit card debt or if you are one of the 17,787 Oklahomans that filed bankruptcy last year, you know that common sense has little to do with it. Those living with the dirty little secret of debt are probably already beating themselves up about it and they don’t need anyone kicking them while they are down.

The answer to any question is obvious when it’s written on a little card in your hand. Money management may be easy when you know how to do it. So, for those great money managers out there that have never struggled with debt, paid a bill late, or overdrawn their checking account, I say, “Way to go!” A truly an amazing accomplishment.

But, for the rest of us with whom money management does not come easy, let me say this: Your view of the financially challenged as unintelligent or lacking in common sense really doesn’t help. If someone takes time out of their life to attend a money management class, learn to budget and develop a plan to become debt-free, they should be commended. The easy thing to do is to go into ostrich mode, bury our heads, and ignore the mounting pressure of debt. But, if someone admits that they need more information and tries to make a life change, they need support – not contempt.

Everyone’s financial life consists of stages. Needs in college (pizza, beer, books…check) are quite different from those when you get married (buy a house, have a baby, have another, plan for retirement and put your own kids through college). It isn’t easy to navigate those changes without some additional support and education. When life throws in other factors like illness, divorce, job loss, the death of a family member, or an unpredictable economy, it can be downright impossible to make your income stretch in order to cover it all without some help. Yes, let us not forget that some do wind up in debt by their own poor choices and failure to plan. But, it’s never too late to change the road you’re on.

So, if you’re financially secure, let me challenge you. Instead of telling the debtors in your life that they have no common sense and that money management is (eye-roll) easy, try to remember that you probably don’t know all of the financial challenges they are facing. Try to help, offer support, encouragement, and accountability to anyone trying to make their life better.

If you are struggling financially, please know that your money management skills are indeed something that you can always improve. Don’t be afraid to ask for help and don’t be too ashamed to seek it.

Common sense doesn’t always translate to managing dollars and cents.

Homestead and Garden, Oklahoma culture

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch: LMIRL — Let’s Meet In Real Life

Jet
Jet is a rescued Mustang. She got her name because she was a "frequent flyer" in the Mustang adoption circuit.

When did it happen?  When did I become so dependent on technology?  Even in the country, we are not without “city luxuries” like Internet, satellite radio and a DVR.  However, the other day I had to turn in my work computer for an upgraded version.  I was without the machine in my classroom for only a couple of hours, but I noticed a shift in the awareness of my surroundings.  I should have taken that as a sign of how my evening at home would go.

No computer.  Phone turned off.

It was a beautiful evening in the country.  As soon as I entered their pasture, the animal migration began: the goats head to the shed, but the horses came to me.  After all, I have the carrots and they know that.   After feeding everyone, I took advantage of Jet’s lingering.  She let me groom her from mane to tail while Roxy stood by and simply watched.  I was able to brush her thick black mane; it’s so healthy now that she is living with us and away from the horses that used to tear out chunks with their teeth.   As I ran my hands down her leg to remove the fly bots that had accumulated in just one week, I noticed crimson highlights right above her hoof.  Wow.  My horse is not just brown.  She is brown, crimson, auburn, and black.  She is gorgeous.  Her Mustang brand reminds me that she was captured and taken from her home, but I take her head dropped near my chest to mean that it’s okay.  She let me run my hands over her eyes and scratch under her halter, and for good measure I kiss the soft flesh of her muzzle.  This is it.  This is what life is all about.

I’m sure none of this would have happened with a phone in one hand.

Roxy
Roxy is a beautiful gaited saddle horse. She was purchased so my husband would have a horse to ride. She also holds the title of "Alpha Mare" in our small goat/ horse herd.

I wanted to write about it.  No computer.  I scrounged up a legal pad and took some notes.  This is hard without my computer; the task can wait.  I checked my email from my phone and remembered I had a DVR’d television show to watch.  Technology habits sure die hard, don’t they?

Somebody, please, don’t let me forget what it’s like to live life with my hands on something other than a keyboard.

Man Cave

Cardiac or Clutch? Who are these Cowboys?

Thursday night football?  You betcha.  I’m on board.

You get to watch an absolute thriller between Oklahoma State and Texas A&M, take a day to catch your breath, and then its time for OU/Texas.  What’s a meal without an appetizer?  Thursday games may drive coaches nuts because their weekly routine gets messed up, but its a treat for the fans and the schools can’t argue with the national TV exposure.  All eyes were on Stillwater last night.

Those that watched saw something of a schizophrenic OSU squad.  Stumbling out of the gates, the Pokes look rattled early.  Maybe they were trying to hard to prove something after taking criticism for beating three puffballs.  Maybe they were too busy admiring themselves in those black uniforms.  Those are solid by the way.  Maybe the Aggies were just the looser, more prepared team.

No it wasn’t the prettiest game, but the Cowboys deserve credit.  Anytime you win, the glass has to be half-full.  Brandon Weeden proved he can face adversity, brush it aside, and play inspired football.  Being 26 years old probably helps, but this was a game Weeden needed.  When you start the game 6 of 13 with two interceptions, and finish by completing 22 of your last 29 with two touchdowns, you’ve earned the respect of your teammates and hopefully the respect of everyone in orange.

The OSU defense gave up 535 yards of total offense.  Improvement is needed, no doubt.  But Bill Young’s unit also came up with four interceptions, none bigger than Shaun Lewis’ pick with under a minute to play.  As long as the Pokes can keep forcing turnovers, they can hang with the best.

Cardiac Cowboys has become a popular phrase in Stillwater.  No question OSU has a flair for the dramatic.  But Thursday night, Clutch Cowboys sounds a bit better.  How else can you describe coming back from a 14 point halftime deficit, making a game changing play in the closing seconds, and connecting for a game winning 41 yard field goal?  Clutch fits…for now.

Dan Bailey's 41 yard field goal lifted OSU to a 38-35 victory over Texas A&M (courtesy Tulsaworld.com)

We’ve seen this before from OSU.  Last season the Cowboys started 6-1, then cooled off and dropped three of their last six games.  In 2008, the Pokes jumped out to a 7-0 record, only to lose four of their final six contests.  The 2006 Cowboys showed promise after starting 3-0, but faltered in three of the next four games.  Only time will tell if the optimism generated last night can last for an entire season.  The schedule gets much more difficult as OSU will play three of its next four away from Boone Pickens Stadium.  But let’s face facts here, the Big 12 South looks ripe for the taking.  Oklahoma hasn’t exactly looked dominant, Texas has some serious chinks in its armor, and the Texas Tech offense doesn’t seem nearly as intimidating under Tommy Tuberville as it did under Mike Leach.

Way to early to crown any team, or make any bold prediction, but don’t sleep on these Cowboys just yet.

Relationships, Woman2Woman

Me Do It Myself: The Toddler Syndrome

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Thank you for all the positive feedback on my first post.  Here we go again, folks!

“ME DO IT MYSELF, MOMMA!”

"Me do it myself, momma..." Even as a baby, Nolan loved to try and brush his own teeth!

I hear this statement from my 2 year old multiple times every day.  Whatever the activity – wrestling with his shoes as we’re hurrying out the door, opening a carton of applesauce at dinner, or brushing his pearly whites before bed – it’s the same old song and dance.When I’m in a hurry and desperately trying to meet whatever deadline is looming, I am frustrated by the seemingly silly process of letting him attempt a task that I know good and well will end in tears of frustration.  Why doesn’t he just let me help?

Even though this independence comes with the toddler territory, I’m just as guilty of possessing the “Me do it myself!” mentality.  I don’t need anyone’s help because I can handle it. In fact, I will reject every offer of help – politely, of course – even if I truly desire the support.  An example:

Some really thoughtful person says, “I’ll watch the kids if you guys wanna go to a movie sometime.”

I think, Awesome, we sooooo need it!  When are you free? There’s a movie I’ve been dying to see that’s playing this weekend. Oh, and maybe we could even grab a bite to eat beforehand!

But I actually say, “Oh, that’s so sweet.  We’re usually so busy during the week that we just like to do stuff around the house on weekends.  Plus, ya know, we have Netflix.  Soooo, how’s that project you’ve been working on?”

And, scene.

In contrast to my own actions, I know quite a bit about the importance of establishing a personal community to support someone during both good and bad times.  Further, we’ve all heard that African proverb about how it takes a village to raise a child.

To my knowledge, there’s no proverb that warns against accepting an outstretched hand or advises braving the journey alone at all costs.  If assistance from others is a necessary piece of life’s puzzle, why is it so difficult to accept goodwill?  This is an especially intriguing question when compared to how easily most of us reach out to others when we know THEY need something we can easily provide.  So, why the paradox?

Maybe receiving assistance is perceived as weakness.  Perhaps we worry that the offer is not genuine and acceptance will be met with awkwardness or hardship.  Or maybe we are simply unsure how to adequately show our appreciation, so avoidance seems far easier.  I don’t know about you, but I claim all of the above.

I recently heard someone equate acts of service to gifts received at a birthday party.  A gift is a gift, regardless of its form.   And, it is almost always given with love and careful thought behind it.

When the package is opened, the only acceptable response is “thank you.”  The recipient wouldn’t return the present with an eloquent speech about not needing the item for this reason or that, so how is it any better to decline the gift of support when it is offered with the very same sentiment?  This way of viewing the issue makes me feel badly about all those times I’ve said no to others.  In reality, I deprived them of an important opportunity to share something meaningful with me.  In fact, they probably thought the very same thing I do when my son displays his stubbornness…..why won’t she just let me help, for goodness sake?

So, I know what I have to do.  I have to start saying YES.

Need help with the kids?  YES!  Can I carry that box for you?  Sure!

Will you join me?  Just Say Yes.  Actually, it feels kind of good.

Mrs. Reagan, I do believe there’s a new motto in town.

Thanks, Nolan, for helping me learn not to act like a toddler...Just Say Yes!
Oklahoma culture, The Stage

My life in the mob.

by Joey Rodman

I’ve always wanted to be part of a flash mob.  “Always” meaning since the first time I saw a video of one on the internet.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the phrase “flash mob” could sound more than a little intimidating.  And in fact, they can be. Here is a video of the mob that first caught my attention (CLICK PHOTO TO VIEW VIDEO):

CLICK PHOTO TO VIEW VIDEO

I saw the video two years ago.  And subsequently, for two years (which apparently translates into “always” in my brain) I have wanted to be part of a flash mob.

I had no idea how to go about becoming part of one.   I’ve never really sought out the opportunity.  “Did anyone do something like that here in Oklahoma?” I wondered.  Of course not.  My self-talk always hit a brick wall and I’d move on to other more tangible thoughts.

On Wednesday morning of last week I opened the browser on my computer completely unsuspecting…and then it happened.  Someone had invited me to be in a flash mob. I clicked the link to the Facebook event not really knowing what to expect.  Very few details were on the page.  The invitation provided the day and time, and that was all.

Did I want to RSVP? Yes.  Could I?  Should I?  These questions were harder to answer.  I didn’t know where to begin. I began to go through “the checklist;” it’s a little bit like momma autopilot – you can’t really even think about committing to anything without going through the checklist first.

Calendar? Clear.
Babysitter? Confirmed.
Would I get arrested? Probably not.
If I get arrested, will the other moms stop talking to me? Maybe.

Well, close enough. I clicked the little button and now I was “attending” as far as Facebook was concerned. I was the seventh person to RSVP and once I did, more details showed up. They wanted 150 people. I couldn’t decide if this was good or not.   That’s a LOT of people and a little more than intimidating.  I calmed myself by thinking “Well, I’m only number seven.  Maybe they won’t get enough to participate.” But by the end of the day they had nearly one hundred people signed up.  The flash mob was going to happen.

On Saturday morning I found out where I was going but still didn’t know what I was doing. For someone who is a planner down to the bone, this was getting uncomfortable. I recruited my husband to go with me. Surely he would keep me out of trouble, although the thought entered my mind that if we get arrested together nobody will be around to bail me out. I start to wonder if Kelly would be a good person to call from jail.   Maybe I could blame this whole ordeal on the blog.

“I wanted to write you a good story…for The Red Dirt Chronicles,” I would start, and wait to gauge the tension of the pause after my soft start-up.

Maybe blaming this on her wasn’t the best approach. I decided that she would definitely be the one to call from jail, however, and I began making what little plans I could.

Saturday night I got the info on “the where, when, and what.”  We were going to be at the State Fair…all 150 or so of us, and we were going to fall asleep. I felt like a secret agent. Under my shirt I had the “reveal” shirt they had distributed to us.   Our instructions were to fall asleep for 5 minutes, wake up, then take off our top shirts revealing that we were all in the same group.  Sounded simple.

I got to the fair, grabbed my special t-shirt and jostled around in the porta-potty trying to put it on – taking great precautions not to allow MY shirt OR my purse touch ANYTHING. This is way easier said than done.  You’ve been in a porta-potty, right?

Once I exited the stinky, stinky porta-potty, we walked around for a while when it hit me:  Falling asleep…how to you stay asleep for 5 minutes on the midway?! What was I going to do? Five minutes started to sound like a long time…but maybe it was worth it.  Maybe.

I got to the pre-appointed place and sat on the curb talking to my husband.  I looked around trying to figure out who else was going to do it. I knew that once I was asleep I couldn’t watch anything, and since everyone had their own shirt on over their “secret” shirt…everyone looked normal.

I was part of a group, but not part of a group.

I noticed a few people I had seen while I was receiving my shirt from the coordinator.  I covertly nodded in their direction…and they nodded back. I was beginning to feel more at ease; at least I wasn’t the only one doing it. Then I started feeling something else.  The alarm on my cell phone was buzzing -it was time to sleep.

I leaned over onto my husband’s shoulders and we slept. I dared not peek, but I could hear the reactions of those around me.

“What is going on here?”

“Is she dead?”

“Oh, there’s a HUNDRED OF THEM!”

“Don’t eat the fried twinkies!!!”…

and, “I wonder what would happen if I tazed one.”

Trying not to react I began focusing on my leg, waiting for it to buzz.  Waiting.   Waiting.  A kid walked up to me – I could feel a human being beside us, but I didn’t look.  A kid voice said, “Mom, I think she’s sleeping.” And then the second step happened; my alarm went off again. It was time to wake up. I sat up, rubbed my eyes and revealed my blue shirt.  I looked around.  There were a LOT of blue shirts.  I felt like part of something important…and silly.  Mostly silly.

Suddenly I was an instant celebrity.  Okay, maybe not so much.   Lots of people came up to me (read 3 or 4) and asked what happened.   One woman said she began to panic until she realized a lot of people were sleeping and then she was just confused.

The cops showed up, the cameras came out, and the people around us laughed a little. That was the end.   All this over 5 minutes of confusion and a few funny comments. The whole process was fun, and then it was over.

For now.

If you want to be in a flash mob, email me. I know about one next month.  We won’t, however, be sleeping this time.

Homestead and Garden

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch: Givin’ and Gettin’- Country Style

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I know why gifts from the country are always homemade; there are few stores around here that sell gifts.  The local co-op has a small selection, but if you are not interested in the John Deere brand, you probably need to look elsewhere.  That’s why I have what I like to call a “craft closet.”  It is full of discarded material, old jeans, paint, glue and just about anything else one would need to create a homemade, ahem, I mean a hand-crafted gift.  All you need to get started is a pair of blue jeans, some time, and a little inspiration.

denim quilt
My blue jean scrap quilt won first place in the fair this year.

Denim Quilt:  Old jeans + material sale at Wal-mart = fabulous denim quilt.  Mine won first place at the local county fair this year.  My 7th grade class made another one for my friend Angela before her husband left to serve our country in Iraq.  The students brought in their out-grown jeans to use which made it extra special.

Wine bag
You don't have to be a wine drinker to like this little bag. I think home made jelly and jam will fit in here too.

Red, White & Brew: Well, that was the name of a party we had for Bryan when he joined the Army Reserves, but I stole it to name my wine bag made out of the leg of a pair of jeans.  It had a red and white checked lining.   This gift is useless if you can’t purchase wine to go in it because you live in a dry county.  I guess you could name it Red, White, and Glue and include some Elmer’s.  No.  Don’t do that.  Add a green ribbon and it magically turns into a Christmas-themed Dirty Santa gift.

aCROSS the room: I made cross pillows out of six squares of fabric, usually at least one square, or the back, is made from blue jeans.  I’ve created them in three sizes.  I put a pocket on the back and put a little note in some of them.  They seem to be well-received by the recipients.  I have several around my own house.

cross pillows
There's no such thing as "too many pillows!"

Recipe in my Pocket: These are pot holders made out of the pockets of, you guessed it, jeans.  The pockets hold little notecards or recipe cards.

Denim Purse: I wish this had a cool name.  It’s the top part of a pair of jeans.  My husband, Greg, helped me put grommets in the waistband to hold a strap.  I also figured out a way to install a snap so it stays closed.  I line each one with whatever fabric I can find in the closet.  I feel like every work day is “Casual Friday” when I carry it.

Tag Rag
The Tag Rag. Another example of "necessity is the mother of invention."

Tag Rag: Several factors went into the creation of the Tag Rag.  I was working outside in the garden.  Sweat dripped in my eye.  My sewing machine had been sitting idle for awhile. I was into gardening and couldn’t get enough of the great gardening quotes out there, so I embroidered one of my favorite quotes on the corner of each one. Voila!  The Tag Rag was born.  If you have not cut up all of your jeans for crafts, this looks great worn with a pair of them and an old t-shirt.

Wow.  That’s just the “givin’” list, and that’s not even all of it.  My “gettin’” list is just as great:  a gallon of fresh blueberries; my Mustang, Jet; a sackful of Daylillies and numerous other plant cuttings; and let’s not forget my dog Mae, giver unknown, who has truly been the best gift of all.

The next time you are in the giving mood, consider a hand-crafted creation.  Just keep at least one pair of your jeans intact to wear on the weekend.