On Father's Day

 

When A Father Dies Young

If I could have my father with me again for one day, how old would I be? Young, I think.  Sitting on his lap or holding hands young?  I think teenage years.  I hope he would be a dad who would encourage his daughter to be her own person.  To seek her own accomplishments and fate.  He would have had to be a rare man to be of that mind, but there were a few of them back then, so it's not impossible.

In the one photo I have of us together, he is wearing a snappy hat and good suit.  He looks satisfied.  Secure enough to let his children know when he is proud of them.  From time to time.

An absent father keeps your dream life close.  Imagination keeps it going.  Removed from disappointment, an absent father lives on as the "good listener."  Not the real father I ache to have had, but still an influence.

The mind has room for everything.

This is from my book Joan Chandler Today.

Washed Away

 

Are you familiar with the concept of "sports-washing?"  (Not to be confused with sports watching.)  The idea is that sports is deliberately promoted by the "powers that be" to distract us from the social and economic practices that would most serve our really important interests.

It goes back to the idea of "bread and circuses."  If the we have just enough to eat, and can be continually entertained, we won't revolt no matter how unfair the conditions of our lives.

So here I am, being "washed" over and over by the NBA playoffs. (Big game tonight!)  I am really clean.  Or, am I?

All Heart

 

I'm here again to report on another absolutely thrilling event in sports; an all out display of excellence and heart that keeps me (and hopefully, you) away from the edge of despair in these crazy times.

It was only the quarter final at the French Open, but Nadal and Djokovic treated it like another round in the epic matches we've grown to love from "the big three." (Federer is still on the sidelines.)

Is there any sport more valiant than Grand Slam tennis?  Exposed alone.  Matches that extend for hour after hour.    

Nadal was down, but never out.  Djokovic was the "bad guy" and expected to win.  

Have I piqued your interest enough to check on the result?

Breaking Good

I am proud to report that I have broken a bad habit.  I have given up watching cable news.  For those who sympathize, I don't have to explain why.  For those who sympathize and are still watching, let me know if something new and important happens.  

My nicotine patch for getting me through the withdrawal is the NBA playoffs.  On a whole, they have been spectacular!  Of course, everyone loved it when the Celtics swept the hated Nets.  And, of course, everyone here hated it when those Celtics beat the Bulls. But now, the Celtics are embroiled in an epic showdown with the Bucks.  Some say it's too close to call. I predict the Bucks will prevail.  Giannis will not be denied.

If you hear about the outcome on cable, it's okay to call me.   I'll probably already know, but I put that in the category of important news.

 

Giving it Away

 

It started when I got the idea that maybe I should sell my condo and move into one of those places for seniors where you get your meals, and other amenities.  Immediately I equated moving with getting rid of my excess stuff.  I thought I had done that already several years ago.  In fact I prided myself on my “minimal” surroundings.

Now I felt a pile of unessential objects weighing me down.  Everyday I gathered enough to fill a large plastic bag and lugged it down to the trunk of my car.  Every few days I dropped the bags off at the Salvation Army.

I also started wanting to give away my things to the people in my life. When thinking of them, I imagined what they would like of mine.  When my friendly neighbor from across the hall said he loved to cook, I invited him over to pick out cooking utensils that he could use.

After considering it closely, I decided not to move after all.  I concentrated on fixing up my place.  But the desire to give away my possessions hasn’t left.  It started in the context of moving, but now?  What is it really about? 

Am I spreading around memories of me? Am I getting ready to not be around anymore?  

Maybe it's just that I like the idea of gifting my way through old age.

A Winning Move

 

At the end of the NCAA basketball games, the players and coaches line up to shake hands. When Michigan defeated Tennessee, Juwan Howard, the Michigan coach,  noticed that a player from the losing team was in tears.  He took the time to embrace the young man and comfort him.  This beautiful moment reminded me of one of my blogs:

Why We Shake Hands

After the Sixers' playoff run came to an end when they lost to the Celtics, Joel Embiid walked off the court without shaking hands with the winning team.  Bad sport.  I immediately remembered when Isiah Thomas and the Pistons turned their backs on the Bulls.  The Bulls had finally defeated them after so many tries.  He and his team were criticized for being such bad sports.  I never liked Isiah again.

So, I was disturbed when one of my favorite sportswriters, Jemille Hill, defended Imbiid.  "He was showing passion for winning. Showing he was serious."

Yes, of course we root for our favorites.  But we understand that both are serious.  Both sides are passionate.  We shake hands to acknowledge the beauty of engagement.  The winning is sweet because this time it's your turn.  Next time maybe not.

A Northwestern Memory

 

Isabel Wilkerson is going to give the commencement address at Northwestern this year.  Things were different when I went to NU. There was one black student who sat with us sometimes at the coffee place.  He was the son of a big shot at the Post Office.  There was another black person in one of my classes.  I was teamed up with him on a project for the class.  He came over to the sorority house where I lived to work on the project.  The house mother called me aside and said I should not have invited him. "It doesn't look good."   “Did you know” I said: “he’s a Prince.  He’s the son of a tribal king in Africa.”  “Oh my,” said the house mother.  “We should invite him to speak.  I’m sure he’s so interesting!"