Mark McIntosh's Blog, page 14
June 14, 2015
Pep Talk: "Stand in the Gap and Lose the Gut"
With head bowed, eyes closed and heart open, your knucklehead scribe listened intently to a buddy’s words: “Let us stand in the gap for the lost and forgotten.”
My mind immediately raced to a wonderful recent memory. Daughter Rachel walking across the stage and receiving a diploma, at the Denver East High School graduation ceremony. In the stands were many gathered to celebrate kids (623 students, a record for the school) including a crew cheering on the University of Oregon-bound teenager: mother, stepfather, father, stepmother, grandfather, grandmother, brother and a trio of dear friends. Ten supporters. To steal Hillary’s book title, “It takes a village.”
That village has expanded and contracted through 18 years, weathered a parental divorce, seen mom and dad move to new frontiers and future spouses. Through it all, and I sure hope she believes this, a young girl’s security net was ever present. That thought came racing through my brain powerfully as my buddy muttered those words; “stand in the gap for the lost and forgotten.”
He knows quite a different story. A gentle soul has dedicated his life to serving the needs of Denver’s youth, especially those living in juvenile justice centers. The Kansas State Wildcat fan had recently attended a graduation ceremony for one of the kids he mentors. Ken Allen was the only one present.
No parent, no relative and no friends. No flesh and blood witnessed this young man receive his GED. A major milestone considering the obstacles self-imposed because of poor decisions and inherited because of poor support from his “village.” It didn’t exist, at least not in a healthy and productive way.
We are products of our environments. My heart aches seeing the young boys and girls of the north Park Hill neighborhood where Victory’s A Stronger Cord wellness movement is active. There are kids EVERYWHERE in that once-proud area of the Mile High City. What is not present? Men.
There are many moms, often with children from multiple sources, but few men. To plagiarize my buddy’s line, men are absent in, “Standing in the gap for the lost and forgotten.”
Folks, we gotta wake up. It’s a major problem dragging society down. We have too many kids without proper mentoring, especially from males. Cranium wanders to my upbringing in Raytown, Missouri, a Kansas City suburb. Talk about a village? Wow. Wherever I roamed there were people: parents, relatives, parents of friends, teachers, coaches, administrators challenging me to “work hard, make healthy choices and show love and respect for others.” It influenced me greatly then and, still, today.
Look around. We need to understand the times. We need to open our hearts. Where this week can we stand in the gap for the lost and forgotten? Maybe it’s not a kid. Maybe it’s a senior citizen currently housed in assisted living. Few get consistent visitors. There’s plenty of options. More and more moms, searching for positive role models, are bringing their kids to ASC workouts. Join us.
Stand in the gap and lose the gut. Serve and sweat!
My mind immediately raced to a wonderful recent memory. Daughter Rachel walking across the stage and receiving a diploma, at the Denver East High School graduation ceremony. In the stands were many gathered to celebrate kids (623 students, a record for the school) including a crew cheering on the University of Oregon-bound teenager: mother, stepfather, father, stepmother, grandfather, grandmother, brother and a trio of dear friends. Ten supporters. To steal Hillary’s book title, “It takes a village.”
That village has expanded and contracted through 18 years, weathered a parental divorce, seen mom and dad move to new frontiers and future spouses. Through it all, and I sure hope she believes this, a young girl’s security net was ever present. That thought came racing through my brain powerfully as my buddy muttered those words; “stand in the gap for the lost and forgotten.”
He knows quite a different story. A gentle soul has dedicated his life to serving the needs of Denver’s youth, especially those living in juvenile justice centers. The Kansas State Wildcat fan had recently attended a graduation ceremony for one of the kids he mentors. Ken Allen was the only one present.
No parent, no relative and no friends. No flesh and blood witnessed this young man receive his GED. A major milestone considering the obstacles self-imposed because of poor decisions and inherited because of poor support from his “village.” It didn’t exist, at least not in a healthy and productive way.
We are products of our environments. My heart aches seeing the young boys and girls of the north Park Hill neighborhood where Victory’s A Stronger Cord wellness movement is active. There are kids EVERYWHERE in that once-proud area of the Mile High City. What is not present? Men.
There are many moms, often with children from multiple sources, but few men. To plagiarize my buddy’s line, men are absent in, “Standing in the gap for the lost and forgotten.”
Folks, we gotta wake up. It’s a major problem dragging society down. We have too many kids without proper mentoring, especially from males. Cranium wanders to my upbringing in Raytown, Missouri, a Kansas City suburb. Talk about a village? Wow. Wherever I roamed there were people: parents, relatives, parents of friends, teachers, coaches, administrators challenging me to “work hard, make healthy choices and show love and respect for others.” It influenced me greatly then and, still, today.
Look around. We need to understand the times. We need to open our hearts. Where this week can we stand in the gap for the lost and forgotten? Maybe it’s not a kid. Maybe it’s a senior citizen currently housed in assisted living. Few get consistent visitors. There’s plenty of options. More and more moms, searching for positive role models, are bringing their kids to ASC workouts. Join us.
Stand in the gap and lose the gut. Serve and sweat!
June 7, 2015
Pep Talk: "Take the Steroid and Ignite the Libido!"
“My goodness,” cracked the woman offering the thought. “That steroid the doctor has me on is re-igniting my libido.”
Yikes. A scary thought considering it came from my almost octogenarian mother.
It was one of many hilarious comments that flowed from the lips of this still sharp-as-a tack mother of four. But there were some serious moments in the usual Friday morning conversation. It’s a weekly ritual for mother and son as your Pep Talk scribe makes a 25-minute drive from central Denver to the southern suburbs for a rendezvous with other goofs. It’s a little dude time designed to strengthen our faith. On the way, I give the Kansas City resident a call and we chat.
This particular morning the lively bantering ranged from crazy weather, “Did you get hit by a tornado?” Colorado’s Front Range was experiencing, to her medically induced friskiness awakening and to the Olympic champion formerly known as Bruce, now, Caitlyn Jenner.
I’ve always joked with mom that she would make an ideal radio talk show host. The feisty woman used to call my sports talk show and rip into my co-host. There is not a topic without opinion, often caustic. After Patsy Sue was born, as she would say, “They threw away the mold.”
The former Bruce Jenner and the transformation into Caitlyn Jenner. From man to woman, in all ways but biological. Full disclosure, after watching Jenner’s national television interview about the life-long struggle with conflicting identity issues, I had empathy for the inner conflict endured for so long.
Our conversation centered on the resolve the New York native, whether identifying as a man or woman, has demonstrated many times in life. Trust me, from a life centered on sports as an athlete or covering the games as a journalist, it takes tremendous dedication and sacrifice to achieve what Jenner did in winning the Olympic decathlon gold medal in 1976.
“The world’s greatest athlete” possessed athletic talent, but the secret sauce for his incredible achievement rests with a reservoir of grit that lies deep within. Most athletes are not willing to pay the price in sacrifice and suffering that elevates high achievers like Jenner, Jordan, James, Vonn and others to the penthouses of their sports. It’s too hard.
Obviously, opinions vary to the 65-year-old’s decision to finally, her words, “Get real.” Regardless of where one stands on all that, one thing can’t be disputed: Jenner is not afraid to step outside the box, cast fear aside and go for it.
Resolve. Defined as “To come to a definite or earnest decision about.” Jenner has a bounty of it. For each of us, where is it time to come to a definite or earnest decision about - fill in the blank? A job? Relationship? Fitness plan? Whatever?
Back to mom and where this conversation about Jenner started. Metaphorically, take the steroid, ignite the libido and unleash the resolve. I just hope, considering her age, mom wasn’t serious about the boob job.
Yikes. A scary thought considering it came from my almost octogenarian mother.
It was one of many hilarious comments that flowed from the lips of this still sharp-as-a tack mother of four. But there were some serious moments in the usual Friday morning conversation. It’s a weekly ritual for mother and son as your Pep Talk scribe makes a 25-minute drive from central Denver to the southern suburbs for a rendezvous with other goofs. It’s a little dude time designed to strengthen our faith. On the way, I give the Kansas City resident a call and we chat.
This particular morning the lively bantering ranged from crazy weather, “Did you get hit by a tornado?” Colorado’s Front Range was experiencing, to her medically induced friskiness awakening and to the Olympic champion formerly known as Bruce, now, Caitlyn Jenner.
I’ve always joked with mom that she would make an ideal radio talk show host. The feisty woman used to call my sports talk show and rip into my co-host. There is not a topic without opinion, often caustic. After Patsy Sue was born, as she would say, “They threw away the mold.”
The former Bruce Jenner and the transformation into Caitlyn Jenner. From man to woman, in all ways but biological. Full disclosure, after watching Jenner’s national television interview about the life-long struggle with conflicting identity issues, I had empathy for the inner conflict endured for so long.
Our conversation centered on the resolve the New York native, whether identifying as a man or woman, has demonstrated many times in life. Trust me, from a life centered on sports as an athlete or covering the games as a journalist, it takes tremendous dedication and sacrifice to achieve what Jenner did in winning the Olympic decathlon gold medal in 1976.
“The world’s greatest athlete” possessed athletic talent, but the secret sauce for his incredible achievement rests with a reservoir of grit that lies deep within. Most athletes are not willing to pay the price in sacrifice and suffering that elevates high achievers like Jenner, Jordan, James, Vonn and others to the penthouses of their sports. It’s too hard.
Obviously, opinions vary to the 65-year-old’s decision to finally, her words, “Get real.” Regardless of where one stands on all that, one thing can’t be disputed: Jenner is not afraid to step outside the box, cast fear aside and go for it.
Resolve. Defined as “To come to a definite or earnest decision about.” Jenner has a bounty of it. For each of us, where is it time to come to a definite or earnest decision about - fill in the blank? A job? Relationship? Fitness plan? Whatever?
Back to mom and where this conversation about Jenner started. Metaphorically, take the steroid, ignite the libido and unleash the resolve. I just hope, considering her age, mom wasn’t serious about the boob job.
May 31, 2015
Pep Talk: "Ray-Roll's Heading West!"
“He still calls me Ray-Roll except when his buddies are around.” That comment came from a beautiful young woman sitting across from me recently over dinner at The Cherry Cricket. Along with darling wife, it’s one of our favorite spots to hang out with my daughter. Now a high school graduate.
My goodness, how time flies. Where did the last 18 years go? I can remember encouraging the little diaper-clad tyke to “scooch” her way backwards down the steps of our Congress Park home on Denver’s near east side. Then ballet. Volleyball. More volleyball. Boys. More volleyball. Boys. More volleyball. Oh, and a cool community service project “Clicks For A Cause”, that brought humanness to the growing homeless problem in Denver.
When she was little, “Rachel, angelito mio” (Spanish for “my little angel”) was a frequent favorite saying of mine for this blue-eyed cutie. Whenever I mutter it these days, or any other goofy stuff just to bug the honor roll student, those big eyes just roll. OMG.
The “Ray-Roll” comment mentioned earlier comes from her younger brother. He’s now nine years old. As a little dude he struggled to pronounce “Rachel” and just landed on “Ray-Roll.” It has stuck, except as the years progress, as does the peer pressure, it has with his buddies within earshot, become “Rachel.”
Watching the standout volleyball player walk across the stage and accept a diploma from Denver East High School created a blitzkrieg of memories. I know there are many of you out there experiencing the same. Whew. They have achieved a milestone. We have too many kids these days not getting that far. That’s sad and a topic for another day. As the University of Oregon-bound photography buff exited the stage clad in cap, gown and tassel, a quick prayer of thanks for her health, good choices and work ethic floated from my heart.
If we’re really lucky, the future will hold many more magical moments. The law of averages suggests that the longer we live, misfortune may join magic for the journey. Stuff happens. We all know it does. That’s when we must shift to having faith our children, moving on to new frontiers, can navigate the storms life will most likely bring their way. Or, darn it, the storms they venture into despite warnings to seek shelter. Especially when it comes to relationships.
It’s a favorite topic on Thursday mornings at the Denver Rescue Mission. I cherish spending time with the guys on the comeback trail. Encouraging them to become more fitness-minded, dependable and productive men who seek a stronger cord to families, work and community. So much of success or failure in that quest begins and ends with whom we associate with. Social networks.
Beloved flesh and blood disappeared into a sea of fellow graduates. Another prayer, universal and available to all, crashed from cranium: “Keep making healthy choices. Have fun. Be a student, not victim, of life’s experiences.”
Ray-Roll’s heading west. Go Ducks!
My goodness, how time flies. Where did the last 18 years go? I can remember encouraging the little diaper-clad tyke to “scooch” her way backwards down the steps of our Congress Park home on Denver’s near east side. Then ballet. Volleyball. More volleyball. Boys. More volleyball. Boys. More volleyball. Oh, and a cool community service project “Clicks For A Cause”, that brought humanness to the growing homeless problem in Denver.
When she was little, “Rachel, angelito mio” (Spanish for “my little angel”) was a frequent favorite saying of mine for this blue-eyed cutie. Whenever I mutter it these days, or any other goofy stuff just to bug the honor roll student, those big eyes just roll. OMG.
The “Ray-Roll” comment mentioned earlier comes from her younger brother. He’s now nine years old. As a little dude he struggled to pronounce “Rachel” and just landed on “Ray-Roll.” It has stuck, except as the years progress, as does the peer pressure, it has with his buddies within earshot, become “Rachel.”
Watching the standout volleyball player walk across the stage and accept a diploma from Denver East High School created a blitzkrieg of memories. I know there are many of you out there experiencing the same. Whew. They have achieved a milestone. We have too many kids these days not getting that far. That’s sad and a topic for another day. As the University of Oregon-bound photography buff exited the stage clad in cap, gown and tassel, a quick prayer of thanks for her health, good choices and work ethic floated from my heart.
If we’re really lucky, the future will hold many more magical moments. The law of averages suggests that the longer we live, misfortune may join magic for the journey. Stuff happens. We all know it does. That’s when we must shift to having faith our children, moving on to new frontiers, can navigate the storms life will most likely bring their way. Or, darn it, the storms they venture into despite warnings to seek shelter. Especially when it comes to relationships.
It’s a favorite topic on Thursday mornings at the Denver Rescue Mission. I cherish spending time with the guys on the comeback trail. Encouraging them to become more fitness-minded, dependable and productive men who seek a stronger cord to families, work and community. So much of success or failure in that quest begins and ends with whom we associate with. Social networks.
Beloved flesh and blood disappeared into a sea of fellow graduates. Another prayer, universal and available to all, crashed from cranium: “Keep making healthy choices. Have fun. Be a student, not victim, of life’s experiences.”
Ray-Roll’s heading west. Go Ducks!
May 25, 2015
Pep Talk: "Eye on the Prize!"
Mother Nature’s rumble of thunder and crack of lightning reminded this knucklehead, if anybody cares, to share what’s been banging around in this noggin’ for a bit.
The critical importance of having the guts to stand for our beliefs. Whatever they are. It might be taking a new job. Stopping a bad habit. Asking someone to marry you. Asking someone to forgive you. Disciplining our children. Whatever. You know what I mean. To sprint off the high dive at the pool and leap into the great unknown? It’s easy to talk about, far more difficult to execute. Simple. Far from easy.
I recently had three wonderful examples delivered within one day. Bam! Two came from sitting in a luncheon crowd supporting the building of additional affordable housing units. A good day for Denver. This growing city needs them.
Anyway, back to the point. One of the speakers told two stories that bored into my marrow about the truth of “going for it.” The belief in self or something beyond us.
Each was from long ago. The first, from the early years following Jesus’ death. Roman tax collectors had showed up for the rent check and told the gathered, “You have three days to collect your treasures.” The tax men were a bit surprised to discover what the folks collected. People. The engaging speaker took me and others in the crowd back 2,000 years concerning the response: “These - pointing to blind, sick, disabled and handicapped humans - are our treasures’” That took some guts.
The second story focused on New York City during our nation’s Civil War. Blacks were being hunted. A church in Manhattan started an underground shelter. A mob caught wind and marched toward the church. The priest calmly walked into the street with just himself, a symbol of faith and fearlessness. The mob halted and eventually retreated.
The third example came from a buddy, Carl Medearis. I bumped into him the morning after the powerful lunch. He’s invited all the time to speak internationally to Muslims and Jews about Jesus. Many years ago, the author/speaker moved family to the Middle East, came back to Denver suburbia for a bit and is now moving back to that tumultuous region of the world. He told a story about a time two hooded strangers dropped a box on his Beirut, Lebanon front stoop. No bomb but a threat. If husband and father spoke at a nearby mosque? The note stated, “We will kill you, your wife and kids.” He spoke and, obviously, lived. Today Medearis writes about this experience in his latest book, Adventures In Saying Yes.
Three powerful reminders within 24 hours. Often? Always? We gotta be fearless. Is danger lurking? No logical solution to what ails, home, work or elsewhere? Sure, danger lurks in life but also lurking is the possibility of great triumph. Cast fear aside and allow wonderment to win.
Whether inspired by faith or whatever floats your fearless boat, keep your eye on the prize!
The critical importance of having the guts to stand for our beliefs. Whatever they are. It might be taking a new job. Stopping a bad habit. Asking someone to marry you. Asking someone to forgive you. Disciplining our children. Whatever. You know what I mean. To sprint off the high dive at the pool and leap into the great unknown? It’s easy to talk about, far more difficult to execute. Simple. Far from easy.
I recently had three wonderful examples delivered within one day. Bam! Two came from sitting in a luncheon crowd supporting the building of additional affordable housing units. A good day for Denver. This growing city needs them.
Anyway, back to the point. One of the speakers told two stories that bored into my marrow about the truth of “going for it.” The belief in self or something beyond us.
Each was from long ago. The first, from the early years following Jesus’ death. Roman tax collectors had showed up for the rent check and told the gathered, “You have three days to collect your treasures.” The tax men were a bit surprised to discover what the folks collected. People. The engaging speaker took me and others in the crowd back 2,000 years concerning the response: “These - pointing to blind, sick, disabled and handicapped humans - are our treasures’” That took some guts.
The second story focused on New York City during our nation’s Civil War. Blacks were being hunted. A church in Manhattan started an underground shelter. A mob caught wind and marched toward the church. The priest calmly walked into the street with just himself, a symbol of faith and fearlessness. The mob halted and eventually retreated.
The third example came from a buddy, Carl Medearis. I bumped into him the morning after the powerful lunch. He’s invited all the time to speak internationally to Muslims and Jews about Jesus. Many years ago, the author/speaker moved family to the Middle East, came back to Denver suburbia for a bit and is now moving back to that tumultuous region of the world. He told a story about a time two hooded strangers dropped a box on his Beirut, Lebanon front stoop. No bomb but a threat. If husband and father spoke at a nearby mosque? The note stated, “We will kill you, your wife and kids.” He spoke and, obviously, lived. Today Medearis writes about this experience in his latest book, Adventures In Saying Yes.
Three powerful reminders within 24 hours. Often? Always? We gotta be fearless. Is danger lurking? No logical solution to what ails, home, work or elsewhere? Sure, danger lurks in life but also lurking is the possibility of great triumph. Cast fear aside and allow wonderment to win.
Whether inspired by faith or whatever floats your fearless boat, keep your eye on the prize!
May 17, 2015
Pep Talk: "Don't Surrender!"
Interviewing professional athletes was my job for almost 25 years as a Denver television and radio sports guy. Hanging out in odorous locker rooms covering the events, engaging the newsmakers and finding the story of the Broncos, Nuggets, Rockies, Avalanche and the teams they faced. I loved it.
Many of the guys involved in Victory's A Stronger Cord project, and on the comeback trail from addiction, incarceration or military fatigue, enjoy hearing the "inside" stories. Most men dig talking about sports. Much like ASC's group workouts, it's a great connector and equalizer.
Anyway, the guys seem to enjoy hearing yarns from this knucklehead's many years traveling near and far covering the local sports scene. The winners and losers. The triumphs and tragedies. The moments that make you say "Wow." The moments that make you say "Ow."
Without question, there are many memories I'll take to my grave. But in reality, there's a ton of down time when covering sports. A lot of sitting and waiting for an interview. Honestly, most of them are pretty mundane. Sports celebrities tend to speak in cliches. Those who have something unique to say are cherished. I can recall many times asking Broncos' tight end and Hall of Famer Shannon Sharpe one question and walking away with ten minutes of excellent material that would last a week on our nightly KCNC-TV sports segments.
But most interviews are uneventful. That's what made something I read recently in the Denver Post quite interesting. It came from former NFL running back Ricky Williams, in town to speak at a fundraising event. During his college and pro career there had been a few times where I engaged Williams in conversation. Rarely did he make eye contact and rarely did the 1998 Heisman Trophy winner have much to say.
Things have changed, for the better. The San Diego, California native has much to say these days. The married father of five offers hope to those trying to let go of a painful past and focus on a promising future.
Williams was sexually abused by his father as a child, and suffered from social anxiety and depression. It now makes sense why he wasn't real talkative. It now makes sense why his pro career is known more for drug-related suspensions and odd behavior than memorable touchdowns and victories. Williams' goal was never to play professional football and become wealthy. He wanted a college degree and a chance to give back to his community. "I gave up my vision for the vision of everyone around me to become rich and famous."
Wisdom now reigns in Ricky's world of transformation from success to significance. The 37-year-old shares his story and helps vulnerable young men and women with theirs. "Our greatest contribution to ourselves, to our communities, to our families, is to know ourselves and be ourselves," Williams told the Post.
It starts with a vision. This week let's learn from Ricky's roller coaster ride. Don't surrender it to anybody!
Many of the guys involved in Victory's A Stronger Cord project, and on the comeback trail from addiction, incarceration or military fatigue, enjoy hearing the "inside" stories. Most men dig talking about sports. Much like ASC's group workouts, it's a great connector and equalizer.
Anyway, the guys seem to enjoy hearing yarns from this knucklehead's many years traveling near and far covering the local sports scene. The winners and losers. The triumphs and tragedies. The moments that make you say "Wow." The moments that make you say "Ow."
Without question, there are many memories I'll take to my grave. But in reality, there's a ton of down time when covering sports. A lot of sitting and waiting for an interview. Honestly, most of them are pretty mundane. Sports celebrities tend to speak in cliches. Those who have something unique to say are cherished. I can recall many times asking Broncos' tight end and Hall of Famer Shannon Sharpe one question and walking away with ten minutes of excellent material that would last a week on our nightly KCNC-TV sports segments.
But most interviews are uneventful. That's what made something I read recently in the Denver Post quite interesting. It came from former NFL running back Ricky Williams, in town to speak at a fundraising event. During his college and pro career there had been a few times where I engaged Williams in conversation. Rarely did he make eye contact and rarely did the 1998 Heisman Trophy winner have much to say.
Things have changed, for the better. The San Diego, California native has much to say these days. The married father of five offers hope to those trying to let go of a painful past and focus on a promising future.
Williams was sexually abused by his father as a child, and suffered from social anxiety and depression. It now makes sense why he wasn't real talkative. It now makes sense why his pro career is known more for drug-related suspensions and odd behavior than memorable touchdowns and victories. Williams' goal was never to play professional football and become wealthy. He wanted a college degree and a chance to give back to his community. "I gave up my vision for the vision of everyone around me to become rich and famous."
Wisdom now reigns in Ricky's world of transformation from success to significance. The 37-year-old shares his story and helps vulnerable young men and women with theirs. "Our greatest contribution to ourselves, to our communities, to our families, is to know ourselves and be ourselves," Williams told the Post.
It starts with a vision. This week let's learn from Ricky's roller coaster ride. Don't surrender it to anybody!
May 10, 2015
Pep Talk: "Nothing Like Eye Candy"
“It’s a burden having to be eye candy for the weekend. Wish me luck!”
With those parting words your scribe bid adios to the man transporting this aging jock for a pre-dawn flight. It eventually landed a knucklehead in Miami for a rendezvous with darling wife who happens to be a business dynamo. Each year my boss is part of the host team for her company’s “All Star” weekend that honors and rewards high-achieving underlings.
I always show up for the weekend, thus the “eye candy” joke.
Anyway, the conversation with the friendly driver on the way to DIA in the darkness of night centered around the darkness of what transpired in a movie theatre in nearby Aurora, Colorado in 2012. Unimaginable and heinous actions led to tragic death, debilitating injury and devastating emotional damage.
A friend, Marcus Weaver, was present that night. Lost a dear friend to a mad man’s carnage, was shot twice himself and testified on the third day of the trial to determine one thing: Was the perpetrator sane or insane?
It was weird to sit so close to someone so docile and expressionless and fathom that within, buried from sight, resides a troubled spirit. I personally think he was sane but that’s a topic for another day.
What struck me powerfully in court and triggered the conversation in the ride to the airport, was a somber reminder about human beings. Me. You. Everybody. Within us lies tremendous power for good and evil.
Person after person testified. Victims and first responders. The stories of heroism, as badly wounded folks worked alongside firefighters, police and paramedics to save the gravely injured, tore at my heart. I wept in admiration. Then eyes would wander to the accused. Nothing suggested the heartbreaking and powerful testimony stirred any emotion. Spooky.
A few days later I led a group discussion during an A Stronger Cord “Hang Out” session centered around the truth that within us lies a broad range of capabilities, from insane to humane.
The conversation focused on how to stay rooted in the latter, not the former. We all have our stuff. We are products of environments providing good and bad. We talked about nurturing the positive and starving the negative.
Two rivals, battling for our souls. Who is gonna win? This simple dude from Raytown, Missouri was blessed to grow up in a community that encouraged hard work, healthy choices and respect for others. Beneficial. I also grew up in a family environment that fostered all that but tolerated enabling and co-dependency. Damaging.
Insanity and Humanity. Products of our environments. Each, certainly, a part of my DNA. Perhaps, yours too? Which will we feed? This week, feast on the good. Cherish life, knowing it can change in an instant. Seek a stronger cord to humanity and run like heck from insanity.
It is ugly and, from my vantage point inside a courtroom, looks nothing like eye candy.
With those parting words your scribe bid adios to the man transporting this aging jock for a pre-dawn flight. It eventually landed a knucklehead in Miami for a rendezvous with darling wife who happens to be a business dynamo. Each year my boss is part of the host team for her company’s “All Star” weekend that honors and rewards high-achieving underlings.
I always show up for the weekend, thus the “eye candy” joke.
Anyway, the conversation with the friendly driver on the way to DIA in the darkness of night centered around the darkness of what transpired in a movie theatre in nearby Aurora, Colorado in 2012. Unimaginable and heinous actions led to tragic death, debilitating injury and devastating emotional damage.
A friend, Marcus Weaver, was present that night. Lost a dear friend to a mad man’s carnage, was shot twice himself and testified on the third day of the trial to determine one thing: Was the perpetrator sane or insane?
It was weird to sit so close to someone so docile and expressionless and fathom that within, buried from sight, resides a troubled spirit. I personally think he was sane but that’s a topic for another day.
What struck me powerfully in court and triggered the conversation in the ride to the airport, was a somber reminder about human beings. Me. You. Everybody. Within us lies tremendous power for good and evil.
Person after person testified. Victims and first responders. The stories of heroism, as badly wounded folks worked alongside firefighters, police and paramedics to save the gravely injured, tore at my heart. I wept in admiration. Then eyes would wander to the accused. Nothing suggested the heartbreaking and powerful testimony stirred any emotion. Spooky.
A few days later I led a group discussion during an A Stronger Cord “Hang Out” session centered around the truth that within us lies a broad range of capabilities, from insane to humane.
The conversation focused on how to stay rooted in the latter, not the former. We all have our stuff. We are products of environments providing good and bad. We talked about nurturing the positive and starving the negative.
Two rivals, battling for our souls. Who is gonna win? This simple dude from Raytown, Missouri was blessed to grow up in a community that encouraged hard work, healthy choices and respect for others. Beneficial. I also grew up in a family environment that fostered all that but tolerated enabling and co-dependency. Damaging.
Insanity and Humanity. Products of our environments. Each, certainly, a part of my DNA. Perhaps, yours too? Which will we feed? This week, feast on the good. Cherish life, knowing it can change in an instant. Seek a stronger cord to humanity and run like heck from insanity.
It is ugly and, from my vantage point inside a courtroom, looks nothing like eye candy.
May 3, 2015
Pep Talk: "Free, Available and Embraced!"
Friday mornings hanging out with a bunch of knuckleheads challenging one another to grow stronger in faith is rarely boring, if ever. I hope to do it until this simple dude from Missouri croaks. It energizes my spirit.
To sit in a room with, usually, 12-16 other dudes from all walks of life, with all types of stories of praise and predicament is inspiring. It’s like a football team. It’s fascinating, and gives an aging jock who loves to write plenty of material.
The weekly Platoon meeting is a blessing.
Anyway, I’m sitting there recently, settling into my chair, in possession of one doughnut snatched from the passing box, when one of the dudes starts talking about a story that would have made a hilarious skit on Saturday Night Live.
In a nutshell, this man, who is beaming about the recent birth of a baby daughter, apparently was trying to retrieve a dog before it ran onto a heavily traveled road. Somebody else (if I got the facts straight, a nephew about ten years old) was also in hot pursuit and determined to capture the canine from harm’s way.
In the fervent dash, somehow story-telling dude slipped. Quickly, but awkwardly, the gentle soul jumped to his feet and hurt an ankle. But there was a dog to save. Press on. Somehow, someway, despite the pain, the buddy sharing the story soldiered on. Dog is rescued. Ankle is broken.
The kind-of-guy you’d want your daughter to marry has been away from the group, at home bonding with wife and baby girl. He wraps up the hilarious - I didn’t do it much justice - story about rescue and rehabilitation with this gem, concerning a rapid recovery from injury: “I don’t know if it was prayer or Percocet. But it was quick.”
Bam. The final line hit me like a linebacker from the blind side. Prayer or Percocet? We all have pain in life, right? Things rarely go as planned? The big ol’ question that must always be answered? “How we gonna deal with this roller coaster we call life?”
Just my opinion, but how about, “Are we gonna mask the pain with Percocet, or endure it with prayer?” Or, as in buddy’s case, apparently a mixture of the two? The mind wonders about definitions while the hand reaches for the dictionary.
Oxford says that “mask” means “anything that disguises or conceals.” Same source says endure means “patiently bear hardship or pain.” It sure seems we’d be better off dealing with life’s challenges by choosing endure over mask.
This week, let’s patiently bear hardship or pain and not disguise or conceal it. Let’s be real. “Percocet or prayer?” Mask or endure? A buddy’s humorous statement was a powerful reminder. Sometimes each is necessary. However, the latter choices, prayer and endure, seem better.
They’re free, abundantly available and widely embraced as being good for us!
To sit in a room with, usually, 12-16 other dudes from all walks of life, with all types of stories of praise and predicament is inspiring. It’s like a football team. It’s fascinating, and gives an aging jock who loves to write plenty of material.
The weekly Platoon meeting is a blessing.
Anyway, I’m sitting there recently, settling into my chair, in possession of one doughnut snatched from the passing box, when one of the dudes starts talking about a story that would have made a hilarious skit on Saturday Night Live.
In a nutshell, this man, who is beaming about the recent birth of a baby daughter, apparently was trying to retrieve a dog before it ran onto a heavily traveled road. Somebody else (if I got the facts straight, a nephew about ten years old) was also in hot pursuit and determined to capture the canine from harm’s way.
In the fervent dash, somehow story-telling dude slipped. Quickly, but awkwardly, the gentle soul jumped to his feet and hurt an ankle. But there was a dog to save. Press on. Somehow, someway, despite the pain, the buddy sharing the story soldiered on. Dog is rescued. Ankle is broken.
The kind-of-guy you’d want your daughter to marry has been away from the group, at home bonding with wife and baby girl. He wraps up the hilarious - I didn’t do it much justice - story about rescue and rehabilitation with this gem, concerning a rapid recovery from injury: “I don’t know if it was prayer or Percocet. But it was quick.”
Bam. The final line hit me like a linebacker from the blind side. Prayer or Percocet? We all have pain in life, right? Things rarely go as planned? The big ol’ question that must always be answered? “How we gonna deal with this roller coaster we call life?”
Just my opinion, but how about, “Are we gonna mask the pain with Percocet, or endure it with prayer?” Or, as in buddy’s case, apparently a mixture of the two? The mind wonders about definitions while the hand reaches for the dictionary.
Oxford says that “mask” means “anything that disguises or conceals.” Same source says endure means “patiently bear hardship or pain.” It sure seems we’d be better off dealing with life’s challenges by choosing endure over mask.
This week, let’s patiently bear hardship or pain and not disguise or conceal it. Let’s be real. “Percocet or prayer?” Mask or endure? A buddy’s humorous statement was a powerful reminder. Sometimes each is necessary. However, the latter choices, prayer and endure, seem better.
They’re free, abundantly available and widely embraced as being good for us!
April 26, 2015
Pep Talk: "Flight Delay Delight!"
When was the last time you were stuck on an airplane, ready to depart when, suddenly, a solemn voice offers. “We have a mechanical issue.” It’s a bummer ain’t it? Folks, deplaning to change flights, others staying on board wondering if they can make connections. Stuck. It sucks.
What to do? Well, this aging jock bore deeper in the the morning newspaper. What to wandering eyes appeared? A story that served as a powerful reminder to a simple, but very difficult, truth to embrace. The importance of forgiveness. Nobody wins when we carry a grudge, especially us.
The wonderful reminder came from a Denver Post story read while darling wife and your humble scribe were trying to get to Florida. A much anticipated weekend of celebrating birthdays for this knucklehead and younger brother’s amazing bride. It was one tick closer to six decades for me and a milestone moment for Susan. I’ll let her share the number.
Anyway, I’m sitting on an airplane, waiting and reading. Many remaining on board are yakking away on mobile phones. The woman in the seat directly ahead tells her two boys: “You start school 90-minutes late today. Tell your dad.”
A story in the “Denver & The West” section catches the eye and bores into soul. Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, say hi to Eva Mozes Kor. The 81-year-old Auschwitz survivor had spoken the night before at an event in Denver. The keynote speaker, at the Anti-Defamation League’s 34th annual Governor’s Holocaust Remembrance Program, talked about a decision made 20 years ago that transformed her life.
Mozes Kor and her family were detained at Auschwitz. Nazi doctors performed experiments on her and other family members. A half decade later, in 1995, Mozes Kor returned to the site. Surprising even herself, the founder of CANDLES: Children of Auschwitz Nazi Deadly Lab Experiments Survivors, asked to speak with one of the still-living doctors who performed the tests. The two met.
“I discovered I had a power; no one could take it away from me, and no one could stop it.” said the auburn-haired warrior. It was the power of forgiveness. In retrospect, the also-founder of the Indiana-based Holocaust and Education Center, says she just “stumbled upon it” and wishes the restorative spirit would have appeared sooner.
Mozes Kor lectures occasionally but the message remains constant. She implores audience members to embrace the choice made 20 years ago, forgive. In Hebrew, “teshura” is a word used to describe the difficult but necessary mindest.
“You can say anything you wish in a letter, but at the end you have to say, ‘I forgive you’ and you have to mean it,” stated Mozes Kor. “That is what sets you free.”
Amen sister.
An amazing woman figures out a way to let go. To say “teshura” and refuse to be stuck in anger, resentment and rage against perpetrators, or self, for the atrocities endured.
What a flight-delay delight. This week, follow Mozes Kor example. Teshura!
What to do? Well, this aging jock bore deeper in the the morning newspaper. What to wandering eyes appeared? A story that served as a powerful reminder to a simple, but very difficult, truth to embrace. The importance of forgiveness. Nobody wins when we carry a grudge, especially us.
The wonderful reminder came from a Denver Post story read while darling wife and your humble scribe were trying to get to Florida. A much anticipated weekend of celebrating birthdays for this knucklehead and younger brother’s amazing bride. It was one tick closer to six decades for me and a milestone moment for Susan. I’ll let her share the number.
Anyway, I’m sitting on an airplane, waiting and reading. Many remaining on board are yakking away on mobile phones. The woman in the seat directly ahead tells her two boys: “You start school 90-minutes late today. Tell your dad.”
A story in the “Denver & The West” section catches the eye and bores into soul. Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, say hi to Eva Mozes Kor. The 81-year-old Auschwitz survivor had spoken the night before at an event in Denver. The keynote speaker, at the Anti-Defamation League’s 34th annual Governor’s Holocaust Remembrance Program, talked about a decision made 20 years ago that transformed her life.
Mozes Kor and her family were detained at Auschwitz. Nazi doctors performed experiments on her and other family members. A half decade later, in 1995, Mozes Kor returned to the site. Surprising even herself, the founder of CANDLES: Children of Auschwitz Nazi Deadly Lab Experiments Survivors, asked to speak with one of the still-living doctors who performed the tests. The two met.
“I discovered I had a power; no one could take it away from me, and no one could stop it.” said the auburn-haired warrior. It was the power of forgiveness. In retrospect, the also-founder of the Indiana-based Holocaust and Education Center, says she just “stumbled upon it” and wishes the restorative spirit would have appeared sooner.
Mozes Kor lectures occasionally but the message remains constant. She implores audience members to embrace the choice made 20 years ago, forgive. In Hebrew, “teshura” is a word used to describe the difficult but necessary mindest.
“You can say anything you wish in a letter, but at the end you have to say, ‘I forgive you’ and you have to mean it,” stated Mozes Kor. “That is what sets you free.”
Amen sister.
An amazing woman figures out a way to let go. To say “teshura” and refuse to be stuck in anger, resentment and rage against perpetrators, or self, for the atrocities endured.
What a flight-delay delight. This week, follow Mozes Kor example. Teshura!
April 19, 2015
Pep Talk: "Push The Up Button!"
I was minding my own business while reading the sports page of the Denver Post - paper edition - one recent morning. The big news? Broncos’ mini-camp was underway and everybody was pontificating. Many angles and stories that seemed to eventually return to Peyton Manning. Does the certain Hall of Famer have enough gas left in the tank? Can he, new head coach Gary Kubiak and their supporting cast get past last year’s disappointment and become superior to their former selves?
A quote from a quotable guy, Emmanuel Sanders, stood out. When the talented wide out answered a question about the team moving forward after a frustrating first-round playoff knockout last season, this was offered: “It stinks that one game kind of defines our season. But that’s one thing we have to learn from, and that is one thing that we will.”
I love Sanders’ perspective and share it. When we have those “What the heck is going on around here?” moments, we have a choice when it comes to dealing effectively with unexpected and unwanted crap. Student or victim?
The Pro Bowl standout seems a great interview along the likes of Shannon Sharpe and Rod Smith, who I always enjoyed bantering with during their playing days and my sportscasting days covering the Broncos. Those dudes always had something to say. As a journalist, you appreciate those “go-to” guys in the clubhouse. They usually tell you something you don’t know. Fresh content for viewers, listeners or readers. Sanders is like that, too.
The former SMU collegiate star is reminding us of something we know. Stuff rarely goes as planned. The Broncos lose 24-13 at home to, of all teams, Indianapolis? Are you kidding me? That was not the plan.
Monday night A Stronger Cord workouts have become quite powerful. After the fun workout it’s time for the “Hang Out” portion of the evening. We warm up, work out and hang out on Mondays and Thursday evenings, while it’s warm up, work out and help out on Saturday mornings. Better fitness, relationships and communities.
Anyway, after endorphins kicked in with a good sweat, we bonded recently while listening to a Knucklehead’s powerful testimony. What a past she has endured. Unconscionable and unimaginable for all gathered. A family’s lack of love and nurturing set this dynamo up for a rough ride. That was not the plan.
We all have stories of disappointment, anger, and sorrow to name just a few. Some stories are heinous. It’s just a part of life we need to accept as reality. What becomes fascinating to watch unfold is the reaction. We’re gonna get knocked down. But can we find a way to eventually rise and continue the journey? It’s what ASC’s all about.
Experiences of life. Easy to discuss. Sometimes, hard to handle. It boils down to; will we become a student, or victim of them? Elevate or descend?
Push the up button on the lobby elevator this week!
A quote from a quotable guy, Emmanuel Sanders, stood out. When the talented wide out answered a question about the team moving forward after a frustrating first-round playoff knockout last season, this was offered: “It stinks that one game kind of defines our season. But that’s one thing we have to learn from, and that is one thing that we will.”
I love Sanders’ perspective and share it. When we have those “What the heck is going on around here?” moments, we have a choice when it comes to dealing effectively with unexpected and unwanted crap. Student or victim?
The Pro Bowl standout seems a great interview along the likes of Shannon Sharpe and Rod Smith, who I always enjoyed bantering with during their playing days and my sportscasting days covering the Broncos. Those dudes always had something to say. As a journalist, you appreciate those “go-to” guys in the clubhouse. They usually tell you something you don’t know. Fresh content for viewers, listeners or readers. Sanders is like that, too.
The former SMU collegiate star is reminding us of something we know. Stuff rarely goes as planned. The Broncos lose 24-13 at home to, of all teams, Indianapolis? Are you kidding me? That was not the plan.
Monday night A Stronger Cord workouts have become quite powerful. After the fun workout it’s time for the “Hang Out” portion of the evening. We warm up, work out and hang out on Mondays and Thursday evenings, while it’s warm up, work out and help out on Saturday mornings. Better fitness, relationships and communities.
Anyway, after endorphins kicked in with a good sweat, we bonded recently while listening to a Knucklehead’s powerful testimony. What a past she has endured. Unconscionable and unimaginable for all gathered. A family’s lack of love and nurturing set this dynamo up for a rough ride. That was not the plan.
We all have stories of disappointment, anger, and sorrow to name just a few. Some stories are heinous. It’s just a part of life we need to accept as reality. What becomes fascinating to watch unfold is the reaction. We’re gonna get knocked down. But can we find a way to eventually rise and continue the journey? It’s what ASC’s all about.
Experiences of life. Easy to discuss. Sometimes, hard to handle. It boils down to; will we become a student, or victim of them? Elevate or descend?
Push the up button on the lobby elevator this week!
April 12, 2015
Pep Talk: "We Gotta Wake Up The Neighborhood"
“Come on everybody, let’s wake up the neighborhood!”
That’s often the battle cry from A Stronger Cord’s head trainer Drew Peterson as he exhorts those gathered for the free workout. The Colorado native implores others to “Push yourself, don’t hurt yourself” during a 30-minute sweat-inducing session heavy on calisthenics. ASC’s Knuckleheads focus on endorphin-producing sweat, friendship-building conversations and a harmony-building spirit encouraging better fitness, relationships and communities.
The excellent trainer wants participants to “Raise the roof” of the gym. Get into it. No daffy ducking.
Anyway, the devoted husband and father of two darling daughters is great at inspiring those sweating away to bark out the counts with gusto. At least for me, that’s very cool. The spirit in the gym oozes with unity. One Heart Beat. Elevated for our physical and mental well being.
“Come on everybody, let’s wake up the neighborhood.” While it’s a great rallying cry for a movement designed to reduce the damage homelessness brings to Denver, it’s also an alarming truth to life in America today.
We gotta wake up.
At the usual Friday morning Platoon meeting your scribe attends with a bunch of knuckleheads trying to grow stronger in faith, a man asked for prayers for his son’s high school. “We’ve had several suicides this year. My son knew a young man who recently took his life.” Tragic. Kids are too stressed these days.
We gotta wake up the neighborhood.
Over coffee a few days ago, a leader in the fight against Denver’s homeless challenge shared that, in recent years, the cost of taking someone from homeless to housing has increased four-fold. A big part of the alarming increase? The Mile High City’s runaway costs to rent a home or apartment.
Reporting from the front lines, most on the comeback trail from homelessness start in jobs that don’t pay much. Low pay and high rent. Rock and a hard place. We gotta figure out ways to get homeless folks into housing with a decent job and a good support network. It’s what A Stronger Cord is trying to do. We just happen to start with a workout.
A respected man employed at a major non profit player in this area is sounding the alarm that costs are onerous. The program’s future is in doubt. An already dire situation possibly made worse if an excellent provider of such services backs away because of the costs?
We gotta wake up the neighborhood.
A random passerby flips open his mobile device and records a South Carolina policeman shooting a man eight times in the back. Cop is white, man running from the law is black and it appears, from the videos, the officer was never threatened. Unconscionable.
Hey folks, we gotta wake up the neighborhood, come together and figure this out. Too many teen suicides, too many homeless people and too little respect for one another.
A Stronger Cord’s trying to lead the comeback. We could use your voice at the workouts.
That’s often the battle cry from A Stronger Cord’s head trainer Drew Peterson as he exhorts those gathered for the free workout. The Colorado native implores others to “Push yourself, don’t hurt yourself” during a 30-minute sweat-inducing session heavy on calisthenics. ASC’s Knuckleheads focus on endorphin-producing sweat, friendship-building conversations and a harmony-building spirit encouraging better fitness, relationships and communities.
The excellent trainer wants participants to “Raise the roof” of the gym. Get into it. No daffy ducking.
Anyway, the devoted husband and father of two darling daughters is great at inspiring those sweating away to bark out the counts with gusto. At least for me, that’s very cool. The spirit in the gym oozes with unity. One Heart Beat. Elevated for our physical and mental well being.
“Come on everybody, let’s wake up the neighborhood.” While it’s a great rallying cry for a movement designed to reduce the damage homelessness brings to Denver, it’s also an alarming truth to life in America today.
We gotta wake up.
At the usual Friday morning Platoon meeting your scribe attends with a bunch of knuckleheads trying to grow stronger in faith, a man asked for prayers for his son’s high school. “We’ve had several suicides this year. My son knew a young man who recently took his life.” Tragic. Kids are too stressed these days.
We gotta wake up the neighborhood.
Over coffee a few days ago, a leader in the fight against Denver’s homeless challenge shared that, in recent years, the cost of taking someone from homeless to housing has increased four-fold. A big part of the alarming increase? The Mile High City’s runaway costs to rent a home or apartment.
Reporting from the front lines, most on the comeback trail from homelessness start in jobs that don’t pay much. Low pay and high rent. Rock and a hard place. We gotta figure out ways to get homeless folks into housing with a decent job and a good support network. It’s what A Stronger Cord is trying to do. We just happen to start with a workout.
A respected man employed at a major non profit player in this area is sounding the alarm that costs are onerous. The program’s future is in doubt. An already dire situation possibly made worse if an excellent provider of such services backs away because of the costs?
We gotta wake up the neighborhood.
A random passerby flips open his mobile device and records a South Carolina policeman shooting a man eight times in the back. Cop is white, man running from the law is black and it appears, from the videos, the officer was never threatened. Unconscionable.
Hey folks, we gotta wake up the neighborhood, come together and figure this out. Too many teen suicides, too many homeless people and too little respect for one another.
A Stronger Cord’s trying to lead the comeback. We could use your voice at the workouts.
