I live in Dallas - an NFL city. Training camp for the Dallas Cowboys is news. Constantly. The media reports every sneeze, every ache and every minute detail of the team. It’s nauseating really. But today, a player was being interviewed - Akin Ayodele. He’s a linebacker, a 6-year veteran. He’s got a little brother, rookie Remi, who is trying to make the team. He said he’s been telling Remi, “You must get better every day!”
For professional athletes the stakes are high - or they can be. Make the team and you can earn hundreds of thousands of dollars (at least) and call yourself a Dallas Cowboy. Pretty heady stuff for a young man in his 20’s.
Step it up. Turn it up a notch. Show ‘em what you’re made of. We use all of these (and many other) phrases to demonstrate the importance of improvement. Often, that improvement must be demonstrated under pressure, not at our leisure. Every adult knows the place where “put up” meets “shut up.” Sometimes it’s difficult to shine when you know so much is at stake, but that’s exactly what separates those men who make an NFL roster - and those who remain on the practice squad (that’s where Remi was last year).
You must get better every day.
It sounds so simple. How hard can it be? I mean, it’s not like yesterday was perfect. It may have even been disastrous in some ways - so doing better than yesterday may not seem challenging at all. But continuous improvement - KAIZEN as the Japanese call it - is vital to every winning endeavor. Finding a job. Keeping a job. Finding a mate. Keeping a mate. Doing good work. Making a difference.
You must get better every day.
Sometimes, all it takes is a commitment. Observe the people in your life. Observe the ones who are near, and the ones who are remote. How many are really committed to daily improvement? How many of them have made any significant changes recently? Probably very few. Most of us do what we’ve always done. We are who we are - and we limit ourselves to what we’ve always been.
That’s not how you improve. You improve by making up your mind that you’re going to change the things that hold you back - those things that prevent you from accomplishing what you want. Those things that prevent you from being what you’d like. Those things that stand in your way of getting that job, starting that career, dating that person…and all the other things you’d do “if only…”
You must get better every day. If you’re not getting better, why not? What are you going to do about it? When are you going to do something about it? What’s keeping you from doing it now - today?
Web 2.0 is a term that was created by O’Reilly Media back in 2003. Many people falsely think it’s some new technology. We’re so accustomed to seeing versions of our software escalate numerically - we may naturally think Web 2.0 must be the latest version of the world wide web. A version that supersedes Web 1.0. Nope. Not true.
Web 2.0 refers to the interactivity of today’s web. Blogs, YouTube and other sites and software incorporate the ability for dialog on the net. People can do much more than surf the net. They can contribute, download, interact with others, join groups, have many points of contact and conversation. In short, Web 2.0 is the social connectivity of the web - in all of its variations. From RSS to posting pictures on Flickr. From Xanga to Facebook. From Blogger to WordPress. From dooce.com to tompeters.com. It’s the ongoing conversation between people that best defines Web 2.0.
While all of us experience Web 2.0, not all of us contribute to it. Everybody who logs onto the Internet experiences Web 2.0. When they go to a blog, look at somebody’s Flickr pictures or read the comments made to a story in the New York Times - they’re experiencing Web 2.0. They may never download a thing. They may never post a comment. They may never create a website of their own. Their web experience may be 100% one-way. The life of a spectator - not a player. The world is full of them.
But there is another group, often characterized by the young (sometimes the very young), who post often, upload pictures of everything, write of every sacred detail of their life, and basically view the world wide web as their circle of “friends.” MySpace and other social networks use that moniker casually. Friends. Often people you’ll never meet. Strangers with something in common is more like it. “Oh, you like Maroon 5? Me, too!” Friends.
Web 2.0 isn’t restricted by age. I’m many years removed from being a teeny bopper, but I have a MySpace, Facebook, Xanga, Blogger and this site. I’m not a mere spectator. Others can judge the level of my contribution, but this much is sure - I manage to take up more than my share of web space. That’s Web 2.0.
But I’m mostly intrigued not by the interactivity of Web 2.0, but the content of that interactivity. I’m fascinated by the behavior of younger people who assume the world wide web is where their voice is heard - where it must be heard. It’s an obvious place where we all go for information or to reach people. We can contact large groups of people with broad interests, or minute groups with esoteric interests.
It does baffle me at times the private and seemingly discrete information that many of us - those who are older, or more reserved by nature - would never upload onto the web — versus those among us who openly discuss and reveal every detail of their life. Heather over at dooce has made a nice blogging career out of such things. And I confess that I’m as hooked as any on her entries. Why do I care? I don’t know. But I do. Do I understand? Of course not, but at least she’s earning a living as a professional blogger. Money makes it all good.
Boys talk about girls. Girls talk about boys. Couples discuss their arguments. And love. It’s all in the open. No discretion. No secrets. Who needs rumors? We’ve got true public confessions happening every nanosecond of every day by millions of Web 2.0 participants.
Like a car wreck, we rubber neck because we can’t look away. We fail to keep our eyes on the road because we might miss something. Is our life made better by seeing a car crash? Does it do something valuable for us? No, but still we stare - and crank our neck like a contortionist to see whatever we can see.
Web 2.0 might best be summed up this way. For some, they enjoy being the crash that everybody looks at. Like a speeder standing on the side of the road being written a ticket by the cop - they don’t mind that everybody is looking at them. For others, we don’t want that level of attention. It’s just how things are — and it’s the way we’re wired. 1.0 instead of full blown 2.0.
Older people have different eyes. They’ve seen more heartache. They’ve shed more tears. The eyes of an old person have squinted into more sunlight. They’ve laid awake more nights. Old eyes aren’t just old - they’re tired.
Young people have brighter eyes. Lord willing, the years will bring greater wisdom to their eyes one day. And wisdom is visible in the eyes. As a window into the soul the eyes reveal much about what goes on behind them. The thoughts and concerns of the old are different than the young - and so it’s reasonable that their eyes are also different.
Part of old age is the yearning to pass on the wisdom gained by experience, learning and time. It’s not always possible and often improbable, but those thoughts behind the eyes want expression. Sometimes, the only release possible are the eyes themselves. Words often fail, but the eyes never lie.
If walls could talk. Sometimes we consider such odd questions, but too rarely do we consider older, wiser heads. Bald or gray, wrinkled and worn - the old (or older) aren’t considered much of a natural resource. More and more they’re burdens to be borne by the younger. A drag on society, health-care and our Social Security system. But if those eyes could talk…Wait, they can. They do.
Sadly, by the time our eyes have something vital to say - nobody listens. Alas, we’re old. Too old to really know today’s challenges. Too old to be considered relevant. Too old to be up-to-date.
Love is still expressed in the eyes of the old. You see it when an old man grabs the hand of his wife, the love of his life for over 60 years. You see it when an old man holds the hand of a granddaughter as they cross the street. You see it when an old woman lights up at the gift of a bouquet of flowers. The eyes don’t lie. They see what they see and express the feelings and faith of the mind - however sharp or dim they may be.
Old eyes make us better. They watchd out for us when we were children. They protected us through the storms of our teen years. They lovingly guided us as we entered adulthood. They cherish our offspring and dote on their grandchildren - fully embracing the challenge to pass their wisdom onto another generation before death closes their eyes and silences them.
Time is short. Life shorter. Old eyes have too few days and too much wisdom.
Yogi Berra utters more wisdom than Bill Buckley. Funny, but we all understand - which makes it even more comical.
Today isn’t so much about fun or being funny though. There has been a death. There’s always a death, a funeral to attend, friends to console, but today I’ll be attending a “memorial” service for a mother who passed away after a long illness. It won’t be fun, but I’m not going for her (even though I did know her). I’m going for the living - a son. Certainly, I’ll be among the audience showing their respects for her life and death, but I suppose more than a few will be there who never knew her really. After all, funerals or memorials are for the living. For those who mourn her passing - I’ll be there.
Few things in life are more dreaded than attending a funeral. Preaching a funeral outranks it. Been there, done that. Not fun. Flattered to be asked I suppose, but I sure wish somebody else would get that honor - not me. I hate it.
I’ve attended funerals that were lavish and formal. I’ve been to services that were celebrations of life more than mournings of death. I’ve been to services full of prayer and those that had not a single prayer. I’ve listened to acapella music, pianos, full blow rock bands and CD recordings of Pat Benatar. I’ve heard family members speak and heard preachers who never met the deceased. I’ve been to 15 minute funerals and those that lasted hours. I’ve been given a single page “program” and full-blown 4-color/full of photos programs. Some funerals are much like others. Some stand alone as odd statements of the life of the deceased - where beer is glorified as the drink of choice of the deceased and George Thorogood and the Destroyers sing (from a CD), “If you’re not drinking, I’m leaving.” Death, like life, can often be very strange.
I’m not looking forward to today. Witnessing the sadness of a grieving family isn’t my idea of a good time. But I’ll be among the other faces there. If they take some solace knowing I was there - then it will have been worth it. And if they don’t notice, it doesn’t much matter. To be reminded that others suffer and that our presence is often the right thing to do will be enough. Besides, it’s never foolish to be reminded of life, death, the brevity of life and those things that matter the most.
Someone told me long ago There’s a calm before the storm,
I know; It’s been coming for some time.
When it’s over, so they say, It’ll rain a sunny day,
I know; Shining down like water.
I want to know, Have you ever seen the rain?
I want to know, Have you ever seen the rain
Coming down on a sunny day?
Yesterday, and days before, Sun is cold and rain is hard,
I know; Been that way for all my time.
‘Til forever, on it goes Through the circle, fast and slow,
I know; It can’t stop, I wonder.
How about this one?
The rain is falling through the mist
Of sorrow that surrounded me.
The sun could never thaw away
The the bliss that lays around me.
Let it rain, let it rain,
Let your love rain down on me.
Let it rain, let it rain,
Let it rain, rain, rain.
Her life was like a desert flower
Burning in the sun.
Until I found the way to love,
It’s harder said than done.
Chorus
Now I know the secret;
There is nothing that I lack.
If I give my love to you,
You’ll surely give it back.
In north Texas we’re flooded. Stevie Ray Vaughn released “Texas Flood” in 1983. Well, north Texas hasn’t seen this much water in a long time. And it sure wasn’t this bad in the early 80’s. SRV never saw this much water in Dallas.
Our normal annual rainfall is somewhere around 35 inches. So far we’ve already had over 36″ - and we’re only half way home. My mind often goes to music - for a variety of things, including the weather. There are tons of songs about rain and weather, but my all time favorite is Randy Newman’s “Louisiana 1927.” I wrote about it in this entry so I won’t repeat myself here. But boy, the winds have changed. North Texas is in a weather pattern that normally brings us hot, dry weather this time of year. I’m not sure, but I don’t think we’ve even had a triple digit day yet. Lake levels were dangerously low last summer. Most have made up for it - and then some. Many are over 20 feet above normal. FEET!
I love the rain. Not all the time, but often. Seattle would likely send me into a depression worthy of suicidal contemplations, but I enjoy a dark, dreary rainy day every now and then. “Every now and then” being the operative phrase. Twice before in the history of such stats, Dallas has had 10 consecutive days of rainfall. Yesterday we tied it. Today, we’ll break it - and it looks as though we could put some distance on that bad boy. Rain is in the forecast (to a greater or lesser probability) for the next 10 days or so.
We’re getting glimpses of the sun - but only glimpses. When the sun does shine, the humidity is suffocating. Mosquitoes have formed their own Air Force prepared to dive bomb any flesh that ventures outside. Every drainage ditch has been cleared of whatever old tires and other debris sat idly for months, if not years. Streets are cleaner than ever, except for the newly formed potholes. Some backyards are falling into creeks. Lake Texoma has wiped out many facilities that once served the patrons (boat docks are without power and have been for days). The lake hasn’t seen levels like this since 1990, when it last sent water over the spillway (levee, or whatever they call it). It’s 26 feet above normal.
Car washes are in a financial bind. So too are all the outdoor trades. Lawn services are simply mowing in the rain. Grass growth is bound to be at all all time high so the demand for lawn care is still high. Roofers are still in high demand from the hail storm that hit us back in April. The town has been swamped with out-of-town roofing companies (and paint-less dent repair guys) since April. But with all the rain, the roofers can’t even get the jobs started, or completed. And other auto body repair outfits are benefiting from the car crashes caused by morons who can’t drive on wet (or dry) streets. Life is good - for some. Bad - for others.
Retail seems to be strong because people want to get out, but yet remain inside. So they shop. Malls are experiencing solid traffic. But they probably would anyway if it were 100 degrees outside. People in this town love to eat out - and that habit continues rain or shine. I suspect some outdoor grilling is being replaced by restaurants though.
Boating and water fun is at a complete stand still. It’s probably a great time to buy a boat in north Texas. I suspect you could negotiate a killer deal. And if this keeps up you might need it to escape your neighborhood.
But it’s not HOT! We’re barely reaching 90 degrees on any given day. We’re down into the lower 70’s at night. Energy bills for air conditioning are normally events that require financial planning in this part of the country. Not this year. Of course, we’re all too busy figuring out how to keep gasoline in our cars so we can use the break from high home energy expenses.
This afternoon we’re expecting more rain - and as usual, not just rain. We get storms. Lightning, thunder and a downpour that will dump inches of rain on us in a matter of minutes. Flash flooding seems to be the ever present warning.
“Rain, rain go away. Come again another day.” For us, it’s coming every day - today, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.
Older people have different eyes. They’ve seen more heartache. They’ve shed more tears. The eyes of an old person have squinted into more sunlight. They’ve laid awake more nights. Old eyes aren’t just old - they’re tired.
