The announcer said, "Ladies and gentlemen,please welcome our 2010 Don Freeman Award Winner." A rather tall and muscular young man strode to the podium. His face was a bit flushed with nervousness. As he approached the front of the meeting room at Safeco Field, the home of the Seattle Mariners, he shook hands with a few of the other coaches. "Thank you very much," the young man said. He looked very nervous now. "I am very honored to receive this award, especially as I look out and see so many coaches whose names I have heard and whose programs I respect. I would like to thank my parents who are both in attendance today. Again, thank you very much."
Again, as he walked back to his seat, he was greeted by many coaches who stuck out their hands to congratulate him.
I was suddenly sent back in time nearly 33 years. I was in the delivery room of the Dayton General Hospital in Dayton, Washington. There was my wife, RaeLyn, in the middle of giving birth. As I looked up at the clock on the wall in the delivery room, I saw the time: 4:15 AM, exactly. Just then he made his debut: Jason Patrick Castro.
Again, I was transported to a back yard in Port Townsend where I was playing baseball with a blonde little fellow with a fat, red, plastic baseball bat. He was wearing a Seattle Seahawks jersey with Steve Largent's number 80 on the front. He laughed loudly as he hit the ball 40 feet over my head into the neighbor's yard.
Now it was a cold night in October, the grass was frosty and I could see my breath as I sat in the stands watching the Snohomish Panther football team. Just then the quarterback threw a 15 yard pass to a wide open tight end. The tight end continued running for a 45 yard gain. Two plays later, the same tight end scored a touchdown.
The sun was out and it blinded me as I sat in the dugout. I was keeping score for the Panther baseball team. This would be Jason's last playoff game at Everett Memorial Stadium and I wanted a picture of his next 'at bat.' I left the dugout just as he strode to the plate. I found a good spot from which to aim my camera. Just as I focused on him, he swung and met the ball sharply. I clicked the shutter and then looked up to see the ball heading for deep left field. Could it? Oh, Lord, please!! GONE! Jason just hit a long home run! I love it. I went back to the dugout as he rounded the bases and when he came into the dugout, we hugged.
Now here he was accepting his second major award of the year. He had already accepted the AP Washington State 2A Coach of the Year Award, for finishing the season 2nd in the state. Now the State Coaches Association was honoring him. A dad's mind just goes wild during times like this. I remembered the little boy who was always laughing. He loved soccer. He loved basketball. He loved football. But most of all, he loved baseball. Now here he was, a 32 year old man, 6'3", 235 pounds, who was teaching other high school boys, not only the game of baseball, but the "game of life." He was teaching them how to be a "real winner," not just how to win games.
How does a father share this kind of pride without sounding like a braggart? How does one tell others that he is so thankful to God for having been allowed to be the father to such a person? I was once asked if I thought Jason appreciated all his mother and I had done for him. My response was, "Honestly?? We are the ones who are thankful for all he has done for us!!"
My grandma taught my uncles about baseball and they grew to love it. My mother taught me to love the game. And I taught Jason and he loves it. Isn't it wonderful how certain things never die?
" . . .buy me some peanuts and Crackerjack. I don't care if I ever get back . . ."
Friday, December 17, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Farewell, Old Friend
Music has been the main interest in my life since I was in the 4th grade. That was when I began to study the clarinet. It wasn't until high school that I began studying singing "seriously". When I got to college, I dropped out of band and made voice my only instrument. I loved it! I was chosen to sing in musicals, to sing solos in choral works and to sing in numerous choral groups. When I left Everett Community College and went to the University of Puget Sound I was accepted into the Adelphian Concert Choir. There I began an entirely new and exciting experience in the study of voice and music. Singing literally took me all over the world, singing the great music of history.
In 1975, I graduated from UPS and took a teaching position in Eastern Washington. For the next 30 years I taught all sorts of music classes (vocal, instrumental, band, choir, high school, elementary, etc.). All during my teaching career, I always made time for singing. I sang in church, I sang at school, I gave recitals and concerts every chance I had and loved every minute. And in 1980, I completed a Master of Music degree--- in Vocal Performance. Over the years I was often hired to sing with symphony orchestras and large choral groups. I appeared in small operas and many musicals. It was all so very fulfilling and satisfying!
This coming January, I will be involved in a production of Amahl and the Night Visitors. This is an hour-long opera telling the story of a crippled boy and his mother who are destitute and how they are visited by the three magi on their way to see the Christ child and the miracle that takes place. I sing the role of King Kaspar and it is always a lot of fun. I portray the King a little differently than most other tenors and I really feel good when it is done.
This will be my final singing engagement, though. Over the last 10 - 12 years my voice has gotten more and more "out-of-control". I have lost a great deal of vocal control and agility and am now at a point that I know I must retire. Many, many folks have encouraged me to continue to pursue therapy, treatment, voice lessons, and the like. I have done this and have found no improvement. I have finally decided that I would be happier not singing than to continue knowing that I am not even close to doing a good job.
I have fought a deep sense of loss for the past 5 years because I have missed singing more and more. I miss the "feeling" of the voice in my head. I miss the pursuit of beauty and artistry. I miss the camaraderie that comes with the extensive rehearsal and toil of learning a difficult choral work with other like-minded musicians. I miss the euphoria that comes after a performance that went well. I miss the perspective of the performer--I love being on stage!!!
There really was never much of a chance that I was going to become a "great" singer, like a Pavarotti or a Björling or a Gedda. But I loved every opportunity that I got to perform. I loved every compliment that I received and I was grateful to God for allowing me to bring joy to those who received it in my performances.
Now I am going to be saying "Adieu" to singing. Again, I thank God for all the chances that were mine to perform. This journey was never only about me. There were so many people that were directly responsible for any success that I enjoyed: Ed Aliverti, Frank Demiero, Ted Wahlstrom, Bruce Rodgers and Margaret Myles. I met so many wonderful friends; some of these friendships having lasted a lifetime: Scott Baker, Michael Delos, Tom Lafferty, Cameron Griffith and my very special musical soul-mate, Linda Purcell Nye.
After January, I will sing no more. But I will still be enjoying music. I am planning to continue doing some conducting. There is still work to be done, presenting the Patrick Castro "Excellence in Vocal Music Award" concert each year. There are many concerts and shows to attend and quite a few former students who are performing in those concerts and shows.
Life is a constant evolution and my routine is continually growing and changing. But giving up singing will be the toughest task yet. The urge is still in me but the ability has "left the building".
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference. Amen
In 1975, I graduated from UPS and took a teaching position in Eastern Washington. For the next 30 years I taught all sorts of music classes (vocal, instrumental, band, choir, high school, elementary, etc.). All during my teaching career, I always made time for singing. I sang in church, I sang at school, I gave recitals and concerts every chance I had and loved every minute. And in 1980, I completed a Master of Music degree--- in Vocal Performance. Over the years I was often hired to sing with symphony orchestras and large choral groups. I appeared in small operas and many musicals. It was all so very fulfilling and satisfying!
This coming January, I will be involved in a production of Amahl and the Night Visitors. This is an hour-long opera telling the story of a crippled boy and his mother who are destitute and how they are visited by the three magi on their way to see the Christ child and the miracle that takes place. I sing the role of King Kaspar and it is always a lot of fun. I portray the King a little differently than most other tenors and I really feel good when it is done.
This will be my final singing engagement, though. Over the last 10 - 12 years my voice has gotten more and more "out-of-control". I have lost a great deal of vocal control and agility and am now at a point that I know I must retire. Many, many folks have encouraged me to continue to pursue therapy, treatment, voice lessons, and the like. I have done this and have found no improvement. I have finally decided that I would be happier not singing than to continue knowing that I am not even close to doing a good job.
I have fought a deep sense of loss for the past 5 years because I have missed singing more and more. I miss the "feeling" of the voice in my head. I miss the pursuit of beauty and artistry. I miss the camaraderie that comes with the extensive rehearsal and toil of learning a difficult choral work with other like-minded musicians. I miss the euphoria that comes after a performance that went well. I miss the perspective of the performer--I love being on stage!!!
There really was never much of a chance that I was going to become a "great" singer, like a Pavarotti or a Björling or a Gedda. But I loved every opportunity that I got to perform. I loved every compliment that I received and I was grateful to God for allowing me to bring joy to those who received it in my performances.
Now I am going to be saying "Adieu" to singing. Again, I thank God for all the chances that were mine to perform. This journey was never only about me. There were so many people that were directly responsible for any success that I enjoyed: Ed Aliverti, Frank Demiero, Ted Wahlstrom, Bruce Rodgers and Margaret Myles. I met so many wonderful friends; some of these friendships having lasted a lifetime: Scott Baker, Michael Delos, Tom Lafferty, Cameron Griffith and my very special musical soul-mate, Linda Purcell Nye.
After January, I will sing no more. But I will still be enjoying music. I am planning to continue doing some conducting. There is still work to be done, presenting the Patrick Castro "Excellence in Vocal Music Award" concert each year. There are many concerts and shows to attend and quite a few former students who are performing in those concerts and shows.
Life is a constant evolution and my routine is continually growing and changing. But giving up singing will be the toughest task yet. The urge is still in me but the ability has "left the building".
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference. Amen
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Do You Smell That?
As long as I can remember, smells have had an influence on me and my mood. I don't know what it is about them that impacts me so much, but I know that I am highly effected. Most of these smells are those that we all experience: newly mowed grass, freshly baked bread, clean sheets on the bed, and the inside of a brand-new car. These are all wonderful and I love it every time they come to me. But there are other smells that have an even greater effect on me.
When I was growing up, my Grandma Gert lived in a neighborhood just south and east of Seattle University. This was, as we said in those days, a "Negro neighborhood". We had always been taught to be equally respectful to African-Americans in those days and we were. Anyway, two doors north of my Grandma's big house was a store. It was a neighborhood store. It was owned by a black family that lived in the back of the store. Every time we visited Grandma Gert, we would go there with our pennies and try to buy gum and candy. I cannot describe the smell in the store to anyone else; I just know when it comes to me. And when it does, I am immediately transported back to age 8 and being in that store. It was a wonderful smell! And a wonderful feeling!
Another one usually happens to me in late February or maybe early March. There will come a day, when a smell outdoors comes to me. It is very distinctive, yet very mild. It is the smell of baseball.It does not smell like a ball or glove or bat. It smells like Spring; maybe some new blooms bring it about or maybe the smell of wet soil. I don't know from where it comes. I just know it when it comes and I love it!
One of the biggest ones for me are the many smells of the city. I experienced this when I was young and would occasionally take the bus into downtown Seattle. I also experienced it when I visited New York City, only stronger. It isn't just one smell, but all the smells; dirt, exhaust, urine, food smell from the inside of a restaurant as one passes by, smell of salt water, garbage, etc. Now some of these are not pleasant smells. But that is just it; these smells still effect me. They are part of the experience and the place and the time and the surroundings. Just like life.
Life is a whole, an entity. Part of it is wonderful, beautiful and so exciting. Other parts are sad, depressing, sick, twisted, perverted. Yet, these are still parts of life and are every bit as important in our experiences as some of the most wondrous events.
I love all the smells. My very favorite, which triggered this BLOG, occurred last night. It has happened to me every year that I can remember. I walked outside to get in the car and it happened. There is a smell in the air, maybe even just a sense or a feeling, but it is definitely there. I can feel Christmas!!! I love Christmas so much and even at my "advanced" age, I still anticipate it like a child! The cold air, the smell of the cold, the crisp feeling, the lights, the memories of family events and Christmas seasons past, and so much more.
During my childhood, my family was very poor; welfare, second and third-hand clothes and toys, not many friends, etc. The usual. Even so, we still had some hope at Christmas that we might get something new and special. And sometimes, we did. But there were smells even then. It was just "in the air", I guess. I wish I had better words to describe it.
I guess this is now the beginning of the holiday season for me. And the high point will be Christmas Eve service at church, particularly if it is the 11:00 PM service, as this is what the custom was when I was young. Plus, as kids, we got to open our Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve right after church.
I was born on Christmas Day and I have always loved all of the build up to that day. Not so much because of my birthday alone (although I did think it was pretty important!!). But because of the smells; all the joy, all the anticipation, all the closeness and so forth. It was something I could smell.
Now that THE season has begun, I am going to try very hard to share all "my smells" with everybody, because that is what you all deserve!!!
When I was growing up, my Grandma Gert lived in a neighborhood just south and east of Seattle University. This was, as we said in those days, a "Negro neighborhood". We had always been taught to be equally respectful to African-Americans in those days and we were. Anyway, two doors north of my Grandma's big house was a store. It was a neighborhood store. It was owned by a black family that lived in the back of the store. Every time we visited Grandma Gert, we would go there with our pennies and try to buy gum and candy. I cannot describe the smell in the store to anyone else; I just know when it comes to me. And when it does, I am immediately transported back to age 8 and being in that store. It was a wonderful smell! And a wonderful feeling!
Another one usually happens to me in late February or maybe early March. There will come a day, when a smell outdoors comes to me. It is very distinctive, yet very mild. It is the smell of baseball.It does not smell like a ball or glove or bat. It smells like Spring; maybe some new blooms bring it about or maybe the smell of wet soil. I don't know from where it comes. I just know it when it comes and I love it!
One of the biggest ones for me are the many smells of the city. I experienced this when I was young and would occasionally take the bus into downtown Seattle. I also experienced it when I visited New York City, only stronger. It isn't just one smell, but all the smells; dirt, exhaust, urine, food smell from the inside of a restaurant as one passes by, smell of salt water, garbage, etc. Now some of these are not pleasant smells. But that is just it; these smells still effect me. They are part of the experience and the place and the time and the surroundings. Just like life.
Life is a whole, an entity. Part of it is wonderful, beautiful and so exciting. Other parts are sad, depressing, sick, twisted, perverted. Yet, these are still parts of life and are every bit as important in our experiences as some of the most wondrous events.
I love all the smells. My very favorite, which triggered this BLOG, occurred last night. It has happened to me every year that I can remember. I walked outside to get in the car and it happened. There is a smell in the air, maybe even just a sense or a feeling, but it is definitely there. I can feel Christmas!!! I love Christmas so much and even at my "advanced" age, I still anticipate it like a child! The cold air, the smell of the cold, the crisp feeling, the lights, the memories of family events and Christmas seasons past, and so much more.
During my childhood, my family was very poor; welfare, second and third-hand clothes and toys, not many friends, etc. The usual. Even so, we still had some hope at Christmas that we might get something new and special. And sometimes, we did. But there were smells even then. It was just "in the air", I guess. I wish I had better words to describe it.
I guess this is now the beginning of the holiday season for me. And the high point will be Christmas Eve service at church, particularly if it is the 11:00 PM service, as this is what the custom was when I was young. Plus, as kids, we got to open our Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve right after church.
I was born on Christmas Day and I have always loved all of the build up to that day. Not so much because of my birthday alone (although I did think it was pretty important!!). But because of the smells; all the joy, all the anticipation, all the closeness and so forth. It was something I could smell.
Now that THE season has begun, I am going to try very hard to share all "my smells" with everybody, because that is what you all deserve!!!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Truly Thankful
Today was the last day of work before Thanksgiving. It was a day that was very much like any other work day. I went in at 8:00 AM, loaded my van and took off. My first stop in the morning, after loading, is at the Bailey Center on Broadway in Everett. This is a large mental health facility that houses a Crisis Beds area for short-stay in-patient care, case manager offices and facilities and counselor and psychiatrist offices. There is also a pharmacy and a physician's clinic. My job is to deliver and pickup client files, interoffice mail and medications for clients. These clients suffer from any of a variety of mental illnesses; depression, bi-polar disorder, all forms of schizophrenia, etc.
I need to share a "small little something" that came to me today as I left Bailey.
Every day I am greeted by my friend, Darrel. He is one who suffers from bi-polar disorder. He has a wonderful sense of humor, a bit of a salty mouth and dearly loves the Lord Jesus. There are many others who speak with me quite often. They usually only say "Hello" and "How's it goin'". Once in a while we stop to talk about the music that is blaring in their headphones.
I am very cognizant of the many, many blessings I have received in this life. I have a beautiful wife, two amazing kids, two sweet and energetic granddaughters and many friends. I have had a complete career as a music educator and conductor and have had the wonderful opportunity to perform hundreds of times as a classical singer all over the world. I have seen my son receive many awards for his achievements in athletics. I have seen my daughter receive much recognition for her creative endeavors (she still has art hanging, not only in Snohomish, but all over the U.S.). My wife is smart, dedicated, loving, patient and warm. But today I experienced something that was deeply touching and came to me "out of the blue."
As I left the Bailey Center on my afternoon route, one of my "mentally ill friends" held the door open for me and said, "Happy Thanksgiving, Pat." This is a person who suffers from drug and alcohol addiction, smokes cigarettes constantly, struggles with bi-polar disease, is quite often talking to people that are not there and can't hold any kind of job. He lives alone and his clothes are held together with twine and thread that he has sewn on. He will never have any kind of a "normal" life and he really doesn't have any true friends. He spends the entire day, every day, at the Bailey Center, sitting on his haunches drinking coffee and smoking. 8 to 9 hours a day he is there. He has nothing else in his life to do. But he wished me a "Happy Thanksgiving."
As I approached the van, my eyes filled with tears. I felt as if I had just been touched by Jesus himself. This man, whose name is Billy, is mentally ill. He cannot live a life that the rest of us would call a life. He has no wife or girlfriend. He cannot work. He cannot drive a car. He cannot do much of anything. But he wished me a "Happy Thanksgiving."
After I wiped my tears (I was pretty choked up) I went back up to him, shook his hand and thanked him. I asked if he was going to have a turkey dinner. He said that his sister always comes to town and he and his mother have dinner with her. I wished him a "Happy Thanksgiving" and hugged him. He looked a little startled. I went to load the van and leave and as I drove away, he waved.
How is it that all of us normal folk treat each other like crap; shoot, rob and lie to each other? And here is a man who, much of the time,doesn't know if he is pumped or stuffed and HE wishes ME a "Happy Thanksgiving."
Makes one think, doesn't it!!
I need to share a "small little something" that came to me today as I left Bailey.
Every day I am greeted by my friend, Darrel. He is one who suffers from bi-polar disorder. He has a wonderful sense of humor, a bit of a salty mouth and dearly loves the Lord Jesus. There are many others who speak with me quite often. They usually only say "Hello" and "How's it goin'". Once in a while we stop to talk about the music that is blaring in their headphones.
I am very cognizant of the many, many blessings I have received in this life. I have a beautiful wife, two amazing kids, two sweet and energetic granddaughters and many friends. I have had a complete career as a music educator and conductor and have had the wonderful opportunity to perform hundreds of times as a classical singer all over the world. I have seen my son receive many awards for his achievements in athletics. I have seen my daughter receive much recognition for her creative endeavors (she still has art hanging, not only in Snohomish, but all over the U.S.). My wife is smart, dedicated, loving, patient and warm. But today I experienced something that was deeply touching and came to me "out of the blue."
As I left the Bailey Center on my afternoon route, one of my "mentally ill friends" held the door open for me and said, "Happy Thanksgiving, Pat." This is a person who suffers from drug and alcohol addiction, smokes cigarettes constantly, struggles with bi-polar disease, is quite often talking to people that are not there and can't hold any kind of job. He lives alone and his clothes are held together with twine and thread that he has sewn on. He will never have any kind of a "normal" life and he really doesn't have any true friends. He spends the entire day, every day, at the Bailey Center, sitting on his haunches drinking coffee and smoking. 8 to 9 hours a day he is there. He has nothing else in his life to do. But he wished me a "Happy Thanksgiving."
As I approached the van, my eyes filled with tears. I felt as if I had just been touched by Jesus himself. This man, whose name is Billy, is mentally ill. He cannot live a life that the rest of us would call a life. He has no wife or girlfriend. He cannot work. He cannot drive a car. He cannot do much of anything. But he wished me a "Happy Thanksgiving."
After I wiped my tears (I was pretty choked up) I went back up to him, shook his hand and thanked him. I asked if he was going to have a turkey dinner. He said that his sister always comes to town and he and his mother have dinner with her. I wished him a "Happy Thanksgiving" and hugged him. He looked a little startled. I went to load the van and leave and as I drove away, he waved.
How is it that all of us normal folk treat each other like crap; shoot, rob and lie to each other? And here is a man who, much of the time,doesn't know if he is pumped or stuffed and HE wishes ME a "Happy Thanksgiving."
Makes one think, doesn't it!!
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Life's Evolution
It was 1960, and I was attending my very first professional baseball game. My mom took me to Seattle to attend a Seattle Rainiers game. Sick's Seattle Stadium was at the corner of Rainier Ave. S. and S. McClellan St. When I walked up the steps to field level and saw the deep green of the infield, I am certain my jaw dropped to my knees! This was like heaven!!
From that day to this, I have loved the game. I was never very good at it but have been around it since I was eight years old. Oh, I played Little League and then Babe Ruth. I even was on my high school teams, first on the junior varsity and, in my senior year, the varsity. But only played one game, and that was only one at-bat and that at-bat lasted only one pitch. I grounded out to the pitcher.
When our first child, Jason came along, I began to pass things along. He seemed to love all sports and, indeed, in high school, he excelled at football, basketball, soccer and baseball. The latter was his favorite and he received several awards: All-Wesco junior/senior year, All-Area senior year and All-State senior year. He went on to play for three years at perennial power, Linfield College in McMinnville, Oregon.
He has been teaching and coaching for nine years and presently he is the Head Baseball coach at R.A. Long High School in Longview, Washington. Longview is a two-school town: Mark Morris High School and R.A. Long High School. Jason took over the R.A. Long program when he was still teaching at Kelso High School and began to change things. The year before he took over, the Lumberjacks (his teams' mascot) had won only two baseball games; 2-18!! Not good!
Jason began to build things and little by little, things changed. It was, however, not without some very deep sorrow and frustrations on Jason's part. He was not sure at all that he wanted to continue. Parents were a huge problem. They always seemed to be complaining and there was no support from the administrators or AD. He would call me and we would talk long hours as he would vent and share his dilemmas.
Over the years things have improved. Along with the Head Football coach, Eric Bertram, Jason has been pushing the school toward a sense of excellence. They have begun to build their own school identity and with Eric's help, things are moving along excellently.
Today, we attended the annual Hall of Fame Luncheon of the Washington State Baseball Coaches Association. It was held at Safeco Field and the keynote speaker was Jack Zduriencik, the General Manager of the Seattle Mariners. By the way, a phenomenal speaker; completely open and totally honest about the most recent season's performance by the Mariners.
We were there to see Jason receive the Don Freeman Award: for outstanding achievement by a young coach. He had, in June, been selected by the AP Sportswriters of the State of Washington as the 2A Washington State Baseball Coach of the Year, for leading the R.A. Long Lumberjacks to a 2nd place finish in the state tournament.
Of course, we are very proud of the job he has done and what he has accomplished in his short career. But as his dad, I still remember all the hours and hours and hours he would make me hit ground balls to him, throw batting practice to him and play catch with him. I still think about all the games we would go to and the baseball cards we collected (which he still has!) and the autographs we asked for. I still have the ball that was his first home run, which was in Little League. He made sure to sign it for me. He was 12 at the time!!!
Truly, I am not writing this to impress anyone. I am not writing it to brag and to say "look what my kid did". I am writing it because we all want our kids to find their place in life. We all want our kids to find success and to be acknowledged for their successes. Well, he has found his place and has found success in that place.
But the most important thing of all is that he is still just Jason Castro. He used to be Jason Castro, Pat and RaeLyn's kid. But now he is Jason Castro, husband to Jill, daddy to Bailey and Maddie, teacher, coach and mentor to hundreds. But he is really just Jason, the kid who loves everybody and who is loved by everybody.
Funny how life transforms us and changes us as it moves along. Thirty years ago he and I were wrestling in the living room. Twenty-seven years ago he and I played Aggravation after dinner every night and I can still remember his joy when he finally beat me! I remember the time I hit a grounder to him and it knocked out one of his front teeth and how he refused to quit--he wanted me to keep hitting more balls!
Now I am Papa Pat, Bailey and Maddie's grandpa and I am the man who lives with Nana Lyn. And, as Bailey told me last weekend, "You are not a boy, you are too old to be a boy. Papa, you need to sit down and rest."
Life does change and it moves along non-stop. But we stay who we are, who God created us to be. RaeLyn and I were certainly proud when our son walked up to receive his plaque today. But there is no plaque for what he is best at: just being Jason!
From that day to this, I have loved the game. I was never very good at it but have been around it since I was eight years old. Oh, I played Little League and then Babe Ruth. I even was on my high school teams, first on the junior varsity and, in my senior year, the varsity. But only played one game, and that was only one at-bat and that at-bat lasted only one pitch. I grounded out to the pitcher.
When our first child, Jason came along, I began to pass things along. He seemed to love all sports and, indeed, in high school, he excelled at football, basketball, soccer and baseball. The latter was his favorite and he received several awards: All-Wesco junior/senior year, All-Area senior year and All-State senior year. He went on to play for three years at perennial power, Linfield College in McMinnville, Oregon.
He has been teaching and coaching for nine years and presently he is the Head Baseball coach at R.A. Long High School in Longview, Washington. Longview is a two-school town: Mark Morris High School and R.A. Long High School. Jason took over the R.A. Long program when he was still teaching at Kelso High School and began to change things. The year before he took over, the Lumberjacks (his teams' mascot) had won only two baseball games; 2-18!! Not good!
Jason began to build things and little by little, things changed. It was, however, not without some very deep sorrow and frustrations on Jason's part. He was not sure at all that he wanted to continue. Parents were a huge problem. They always seemed to be complaining and there was no support from the administrators or AD. He would call me and we would talk long hours as he would vent and share his dilemmas.
Over the years things have improved. Along with the Head Football coach, Eric Bertram, Jason has been pushing the school toward a sense of excellence. They have begun to build their own school identity and with Eric's help, things are moving along excellently.
Today, we attended the annual Hall of Fame Luncheon of the Washington State Baseball Coaches Association. It was held at Safeco Field and the keynote speaker was Jack Zduriencik, the General Manager of the Seattle Mariners. By the way, a phenomenal speaker; completely open and totally honest about the most recent season's performance by the Mariners.
We were there to see Jason receive the Don Freeman Award: for outstanding achievement by a young coach. He had, in June, been selected by the AP Sportswriters of the State of Washington as the 2A Washington State Baseball Coach of the Year, for leading the R.A. Long Lumberjacks to a 2nd place finish in the state tournament.
Of course, we are very proud of the job he has done and what he has accomplished in his short career. But as his dad, I still remember all the hours and hours and hours he would make me hit ground balls to him, throw batting practice to him and play catch with him. I still think about all the games we would go to and the baseball cards we collected (which he still has!) and the autographs we asked for. I still have the ball that was his first home run, which was in Little League. He made sure to sign it for me. He was 12 at the time!!!
Truly, I am not writing this to impress anyone. I am not writing it to brag and to say "look what my kid did". I am writing it because we all want our kids to find their place in life. We all want our kids to find success and to be acknowledged for their successes. Well, he has found his place and has found success in that place.
But the most important thing of all is that he is still just Jason Castro. He used to be Jason Castro, Pat and RaeLyn's kid. But now he is Jason Castro, husband to Jill, daddy to Bailey and Maddie, teacher, coach and mentor to hundreds. But he is really just Jason, the kid who loves everybody and who is loved by everybody.
Funny how life transforms us and changes us as it moves along. Thirty years ago he and I were wrestling in the living room. Twenty-seven years ago he and I played Aggravation after dinner every night and I can still remember his joy when he finally beat me! I remember the time I hit a grounder to him and it knocked out one of his front teeth and how he refused to quit--he wanted me to keep hitting more balls!
Now I am Papa Pat, Bailey and Maddie's grandpa and I am the man who lives with Nana Lyn. And, as Bailey told me last weekend, "You are not a boy, you are too old to be a boy. Papa, you need to sit down and rest."
Life does change and it moves along non-stop. But we stay who we are, who God created us to be. RaeLyn and I were certainly proud when our son walked up to receive his plaque today. But there is no plaque for what he is best at: just being Jason!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Where Has Integrity Gone?
The wind is blowing like crazy and the lights keep flickering, so I am not sure this will get written tonight. But I am going to go as long as I can. I am listening to CBC Classical on the radio and they are playing "Overture to a Fairy Tale: by Oskar Morawetz. It is awesome!
Did you read about Cameron Newton? He is the quarterback (and let me say right now, a very good one) at Auburn University, in Georgia. He is very controversial, for many reasons, none of which are positive. He used to be a student-athlete at the University of Florida. But he was asked to leave because he was caught cheating on some exams--three different times! So he decided to go to a junior college so he could get eligible to play football at a Division I school again. He was going to go to Mississippi State. His father, a preacher, told the athletic recruiter, when asked what it would take for Cam to attend Miss. State, it would take "from $100,000.00 to $180,000.00 for my son to come to Mississippi State."
Two weeks ago there was an accusation made that the football coach at Florida had leaked Newton's grade record and student file, making it public. Of course, that coach has denied that accusation.
Do you ever watch college football or basketball on TV and try to imagine some of those young men attending class? Can you see them sitting in class or carrying books or working in a lab? Can you imagine reading an essay written by one of these guys? And what kind of classes are they taking? Are they really college classes? Or are they, you know, "classes for students who don't want to take classes"?
Now I know there are student-athletes who are really student-athletes. They really do exist! Jake Locker has received his degree at UW. So did Jon Brockman. And there are many others. But many more student-athletes do not graduate. In fact, I wonder if they are really "eligible", since it is the institution that oversees that.
My whole point is this: Where has integrity gone? Newton's father, a preacher, was asking for as much as $180,000.00 for his son to attend a certain school. A preacher! A man who is, at least in my mind, a representative of God. God's representative committing a crime, openly and unabashedly. What is going on? Where is his integrity, if not as a man, as a representative of the Almighty?
I am not in any way saying that I am any better. I have most certainly committed my share of sins--and about 10 other peoples' share, too! But . . .oh, I don't know. I am just so tired of seeing people trying to "make it big" and they don't even want to do it honestly.
And another thing . . . how did they get admitted into that university in the first place? People like me, who had limited "special skills" had to have fairly good grades (above 3.2) to even get accepted. These athletes are getting into major universities with a 2.3 to 2.7 and most of them barely stay eligible. It is truly disgusting. A real sad commentary on what has become important in our society.
And they give these guys tuition and book money and food allowance. I had to work. I had to sing so that I could receive a pittance of a scholarship.I went into debt that took RaeLyn and I 10 years to pay back. And when I retired from teaching, after 30 years, I was making a little over $60,000.00 per year. Student-athletes pay no tuition, get their books paid for and receive a small stipend. Then, when they graduate and play in the NFL, they make a minimum of $325,000.00 in their first year. I worked 30 years and was making less than 1/5 what they are making in their first year!
And if I would quit going to these games and stop watching them on TV and if everybody else would do that, too, we would not have this problem. It is all about the money!
"Lord forgive us, for, in our hearts, we know better. But we don't care."
Did you read about Cameron Newton? He is the quarterback (and let me say right now, a very good one) at Auburn University, in Georgia. He is very controversial, for many reasons, none of which are positive. He used to be a student-athlete at the University of Florida. But he was asked to leave because he was caught cheating on some exams--three different times! So he decided to go to a junior college so he could get eligible to play football at a Division I school again. He was going to go to Mississippi State. His father, a preacher, told the athletic recruiter, when asked what it would take for Cam to attend Miss. State, it would take "from $100,000.00 to $180,000.00 for my son to come to Mississippi State."
Two weeks ago there was an accusation made that the football coach at Florida had leaked Newton's grade record and student file, making it public. Of course, that coach has denied that accusation.
Do you ever watch college football or basketball on TV and try to imagine some of those young men attending class? Can you see them sitting in class or carrying books or working in a lab? Can you imagine reading an essay written by one of these guys? And what kind of classes are they taking? Are they really college classes? Or are they, you know, "classes for students who don't want to take classes"?
Now I know there are student-athletes who are really student-athletes. They really do exist! Jake Locker has received his degree at UW. So did Jon Brockman. And there are many others. But many more student-athletes do not graduate. In fact, I wonder if they are really "eligible", since it is the institution that oversees that.
My whole point is this: Where has integrity gone? Newton's father, a preacher, was asking for as much as $180,000.00 for his son to attend a certain school. A preacher! A man who is, at least in my mind, a representative of God. God's representative committing a crime, openly and unabashedly. What is going on? Where is his integrity, if not as a man, as a representative of the Almighty?
I am not in any way saying that I am any better. I have most certainly committed my share of sins--and about 10 other peoples' share, too! But . . .oh, I don't know. I am just so tired of seeing people trying to "make it big" and they don't even want to do it honestly.
And another thing . . . how did they get admitted into that university in the first place? People like me, who had limited "special skills" had to have fairly good grades (above 3.2) to even get accepted. These athletes are getting into major universities with a 2.3 to 2.7 and most of them barely stay eligible. It is truly disgusting. A real sad commentary on what has become important in our society.
And they give these guys tuition and book money and food allowance. I had to work. I had to sing so that I could receive a pittance of a scholarship.I went into debt that took RaeLyn and I 10 years to pay back. And when I retired from teaching, after 30 years, I was making a little over $60,000.00 per year. Student-athletes pay no tuition, get their books paid for and receive a small stipend. Then, when they graduate and play in the NFL, they make a minimum of $325,000.00 in their first year. I worked 30 years and was making less than 1/5 what they are making in their first year!
And if I would quit going to these games and stop watching them on TV and if everybody else would do that, too, we would not have this problem. It is all about the money!
"Lord forgive us, for, in our hearts, we know better. But we don't care."
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Moving Slowly
It has been quite some time since I last sat down to write. I have missed it very much but never felt like I had much to say. Maybe my life is just moving along rather slowly right now. Or maybe I am allowing life to sink in a little more before I respond to things. Not sure.
So for now, I am just moving slow and thinking even slower so that I can truly experience, feel and think. Check back in a few days to see if I have begun to speed up. Until then, I am going to keep on keeping on!!
So for now, I am just moving slow and thinking even slower so that I can truly experience, feel and think. Check back in a few days to see if I have begun to speed up. Until then, I am going to keep on keeping on!!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Darrel, My Mentally Ill Friend
Although I am retired, I work full-time for Compass Health. This is a community-based mental health agency which serves Snohomish, Skagit and Island Counties. I am a courier; I pick up and deliver client files and medications, inter-office mail and some U.S. mail. My route is fairly regular and I really enjoy the peaceful driving, about 225 miles daily.
Often I meet some of the clients that are utilizing the services of Compass Health. Depending on the services provided by a particular clinic, I may meet a drug addict, someone who is suffering from a mild depression, a schizophrenic who speaks to people who are not there or perhaps a person suffering bi-polar disease and simply cannot hold a job.
Most of these people need money, many need a place to live and they all need a smiling face. That is what I try to provide. I can tell that many of them are used to being treated like they are less than human. I don't do anything more than say "Hello" or "How's it goin'". But I always wait to hear their response. And they usually have one, too!
During my first day of training for the job (three years ago)I was introduced to Darrel. He works part-time at one of the larger facilities, where he is also a client. He is usually unkempt, with a few days growth of beard. He was friendly, though and quite talkative. I liked him.
About a week after I started driving the route alone, Darrel met me at the door and greeted me, "Pat Castro, how you doing?" We talked for maybe a minute or so and then I went about my business. As I drove away, I noticed that I felt different than when I arrived. It was Darrel! He changed my mood. I felt lighter, happier!
Over the next months, he told me that he was married. His wife is mentally ill, too. She must stay on her medication or very traumatic things begin to happen. Occasionally, she stops taking her meds. The first time, Darrel told me she had been gone for a month and he had no idea where she was! After another month he told me that she had finally called and she was in an institution. She had been found wandering and she was a mess. Each time Darrel told me about her, he would quote scripture. This man who looks like a bum, knows the Bible and has a personal faith in and relationship with Jesus Christ. He asked me to pray for Frannie,his wife. I said I would and he went off about his business.
She eventually came home and is doing fine now. I mean, she is taking her meds and is pretty stable. Darrel is a bit of a rascal and he is sometimes vulgar and uses a lot of profanity, though he never takes the Lord's name in vain.
My purpose in writing this is to try to understand why I love this guy so much. He is usually dirty, hair is gross-looking, he is constantly smoking and his favorite word is 'f_ _ _'. One day he had forgotten where he left his false teeth so he was toothless that day!!! But you know what, he is a wonderful, loving and caring man. He works at a job, he drives a car, he takes care of his wife (who is African-American. Darrel is white) and keeps an eye out for his mentally ill friends. What more is there in life than to work at a job, care for those you are close to and thank God for what you have?
I have learned a great deal from Darrel. My education is a very important part of my life and I spent my entire adult life trying to help others become life-long learners. But I have a deep and abiding respect and love for this mentally ill man, who has very little formal education and for whom life is exceedingly difficult. He trusts in God, believing He has a plan for him and knows the love of Jesus. What did I ever do to deserve a friendship with such a fine human being?? I can only assume that this has come by the "Grace of God Almighty".
The next time you see a bum, a hobo, a retard, a drunk, a homeless person, or a bag-lady, please think of my friend, Darrel. Those people are exactly that, they are people; like you and me. They have a story, they have a family, they have needs and dreams and all the same hopes as you and I. Pray for them. Just care.
Often I meet some of the clients that are utilizing the services of Compass Health. Depending on the services provided by a particular clinic, I may meet a drug addict, someone who is suffering from a mild depression, a schizophrenic who speaks to people who are not there or perhaps a person suffering bi-polar disease and simply cannot hold a job.
Most of these people need money, many need a place to live and they all need a smiling face. That is what I try to provide. I can tell that many of them are used to being treated like they are less than human. I don't do anything more than say "Hello" or "How's it goin'". But I always wait to hear their response. And they usually have one, too!
During my first day of training for the job (three years ago)I was introduced to Darrel. He works part-time at one of the larger facilities, where he is also a client. He is usually unkempt, with a few days growth of beard. He was friendly, though and quite talkative. I liked him.
About a week after I started driving the route alone, Darrel met me at the door and greeted me, "Pat Castro, how you doing?" We talked for maybe a minute or so and then I went about my business. As I drove away, I noticed that I felt different than when I arrived. It was Darrel! He changed my mood. I felt lighter, happier!
Over the next months, he told me that he was married. His wife is mentally ill, too. She must stay on her medication or very traumatic things begin to happen. Occasionally, she stops taking her meds. The first time, Darrel told me she had been gone for a month and he had no idea where she was! After another month he told me that she had finally called and she was in an institution. She had been found wandering and she was a mess. Each time Darrel told me about her, he would quote scripture. This man who looks like a bum, knows the Bible and has a personal faith in and relationship with Jesus Christ. He asked me to pray for Frannie,his wife. I said I would and he went off about his business.
She eventually came home and is doing fine now. I mean, she is taking her meds and is pretty stable. Darrel is a bit of a rascal and he is sometimes vulgar and uses a lot of profanity, though he never takes the Lord's name in vain.
My purpose in writing this is to try to understand why I love this guy so much. He is usually dirty, hair is gross-looking, he is constantly smoking and his favorite word is 'f_ _ _'. One day he had forgotten where he left his false teeth so he was toothless that day!!! But you know what, he is a wonderful, loving and caring man. He works at a job, he drives a car, he takes care of his wife (who is African-American. Darrel is white) and keeps an eye out for his mentally ill friends. What more is there in life than to work at a job, care for those you are close to and thank God for what you have?
I have learned a great deal from Darrel. My education is a very important part of my life and I spent my entire adult life trying to help others become life-long learners. But I have a deep and abiding respect and love for this mentally ill man, who has very little formal education and for whom life is exceedingly difficult. He trusts in God, believing He has a plan for him and knows the love of Jesus. What did I ever do to deserve a friendship with such a fine human being?? I can only assume that this has come by the "Grace of God Almighty".
The next time you see a bum, a hobo, a retard, a drunk, a homeless person, or a bag-lady, please think of my friend, Darrel. Those people are exactly that, they are people; like you and me. They have a story, they have a family, they have needs and dreams and all the same hopes as you and I. Pray for them. Just care.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Count Your Blessings
Last Friday, September 3, 2010, RaeLyn and I celebrated our 39th wedding anniversary. It is a wonderful milestone and we spent the weekend having a very enjoyable time in Leavenworth and Wenatchee, Washington. A glass of champagne, a beautiful red rose and a lot of laughing. It was very nice!
It made me think about what I am truly thankful for in this world. Almighty God has blessed me over and over and over in this life. However, I am most thankful for three blessings.
RaeLyn: We met in high school, in Spanish I class. From the first day of school we stared at each other. Eventually, we got to know one another a bit. We "went together" throughout high school and even into college. We married very young (I was 20 and she was 19). We both have done an incredible amount of growing and learning and exploring in our years together. She is, as most successful wives are, the strength of our family. Little would happen in our house were it not for her. She not only has my undying love, but my utmost respect. I thank God for her every day.
Jason: While I was teaching band in Dayton, Washington, we were performing in Pomeroy, Washington for a band festival. RaeLyn was pregnant with our first child. When the band bus arrived back at the high school, about 11:00 PM, our good friend, Jan, walked over to my room (she and her husband, Gordon, our best friends, lived across the street from the band room)and told me that RaeLyn had called and she needed to be taken to the hospital. Gordon had taken her. I rushed off to Dayton General Hospital and at 4:15 AM on March 15, 1978, our oldest child, Jason Patrick, was born. He changed our lives forever. He has brought nothing but joy, honor and blessing into our lives. He is the "jock" in our family and we have attended MANY athletic events in his support. He is now a highly respected high school teacher and coach (2010 2A Washington State Baseball Coach of the Year!!!). He is also the husband of a wonderful wife and Daddy to two beautiful daughters. I thank God for him and them every day.
Julie: Julie entered our world in 1982. We were living in Port Townsend. Her brother was very proud and very protective. We went to the park, we spent time at the beach. We went on picnics. We took up an interest in tent-camping. We all laughed together, played together and worshiped together. We were (and still are) a complete family. Julie was an honor-ladened art student in high school and still has a piece hanging in the Snohomish Public Library. Through college she continued her growth in becoming a very accomplished and uniquely creative artist. She is very much a person who thinks "outside the box". Her art is moving and deep. Her personality is warm, loving and delightful. She is a startlingly lovely woman and I am so proud of who she is and what she stands for. To her, I am "Pops" and to me, she is still "my little girl". I thank God for her every day.
Of course, there are so many blessing we experience in this life and to select only three might be a bit selfish. But I am certain that God knows my heart and He knows that I am grateful for all the many blessings that He has put in my life. And were He not to know this, He could read my blog!!!
It made me think about what I am truly thankful for in this world. Almighty God has blessed me over and over and over in this life. However, I am most thankful for three blessings.
RaeLyn: We met in high school, in Spanish I class. From the first day of school we stared at each other. Eventually, we got to know one another a bit. We "went together" throughout high school and even into college. We married very young (I was 20 and she was 19). We both have done an incredible amount of growing and learning and exploring in our years together. She is, as most successful wives are, the strength of our family. Little would happen in our house were it not for her. She not only has my undying love, but my utmost respect. I thank God for her every day.
Jason: While I was teaching band in Dayton, Washington, we were performing in Pomeroy, Washington for a band festival. RaeLyn was pregnant with our first child. When the band bus arrived back at the high school, about 11:00 PM, our good friend, Jan, walked over to my room (she and her husband, Gordon, our best friends, lived across the street from the band room)and told me that RaeLyn had called and she needed to be taken to the hospital. Gordon had taken her. I rushed off to Dayton General Hospital and at 4:15 AM on March 15, 1978, our oldest child, Jason Patrick, was born. He changed our lives forever. He has brought nothing but joy, honor and blessing into our lives. He is the "jock" in our family and we have attended MANY athletic events in his support. He is now a highly respected high school teacher and coach (2010 2A Washington State Baseball Coach of the Year!!!). He is also the husband of a wonderful wife and Daddy to two beautiful daughters. I thank God for him and them every day.
Julie: Julie entered our world in 1982. We were living in Port Townsend. Her brother was very proud and very protective. We went to the park, we spent time at the beach. We went on picnics. We took up an interest in tent-camping. We all laughed together, played together and worshiped together. We were (and still are) a complete family. Julie was an honor-ladened art student in high school and still has a piece hanging in the Snohomish Public Library. Through college she continued her growth in becoming a very accomplished and uniquely creative artist. She is very much a person who thinks "outside the box". Her art is moving and deep. Her personality is warm, loving and delightful. She is a startlingly lovely woman and I am so proud of who she is and what she stands for. To her, I am "Pops" and to me, she is still "my little girl". I thank God for her every day.
Of course, there are so many blessing we experience in this life and to select only three might be a bit selfish. But I am certain that God knows my heart and He knows that I am grateful for all the many blessings that He has put in my life. And were He not to know this, He could read my blog!!!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Spouting Off
Alright, that's it--I have had it!! I know many people will say that I am opinionated, narrow-minded and old-fashioned. I don't care, I've had it!
I figure that I have heard the American national anthem over 2,000 times in the past 30 years. What with all the sporting events I have attended as a spectator and as Official Scorer for the Everett AquaSox, I must have heard at least that many.
At yesterday's AquaSox game I heard it again; it was horrible!!! Wrong words (it's 'perilous' NOT 'perolis', o'er' NOT 'for') wrong notes (hard to describe, I have heard it more and more with a half-step where there should be a whole-step in the ascending scale that occurs three times in the song), show-off key (started way too high and then had to scream to complete the song).
Oh, and by the way, the American national anthem is not jazz, pop, rock, rhythm & blues, or any other contemporary style. It is not being performed for an individual to share with a large audience how great a singer they are. It is not being sung for the self-aggrandizement of the singer. The purpose of the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner is to remind all those in attendance how very fortunate we all are to be able to attend that event in peace.That's all; it's not a time reserved for the singer to mock the song by inventing a new rendition. Sing it right, that is, honorably, and get off the field!!!
If you are going to sing it, learn the words and what they mean! It is poetry, not everyday language and if you are going to sing it, then learn the poetic words and their meanings. If you don't mean what it says, don't sing it! Millions of men and women died for you to have the honor of living in a country that is free of oppression. Millions more sacrificed their lives, even though they lived through combat.
I have sung this song many, many times. It was an honor to do so each and every time. I love this song and what it stands for. I am one of those who did not serve in the military but I am deeply grateful to every single person who did. This is my small way of thanking them.
The next time someone sings this song at a sporting event, I hope they remember that it is not 'ABOUT THEM'!!!
I figure that I have heard the American national anthem over 2,000 times in the past 30 years. What with all the sporting events I have attended as a spectator and as Official Scorer for the Everett AquaSox, I must have heard at least that many.
At yesterday's AquaSox game I heard it again; it was horrible!!! Wrong words (it's 'perilous' NOT 'perolis', o'er' NOT 'for') wrong notes (hard to describe, I have heard it more and more with a half-step where there should be a whole-step in the ascending scale that occurs three times in the song), show-off key (started way too high and then had to scream to complete the song).
Oh, and by the way, the American national anthem is not jazz, pop, rock, rhythm & blues, or any other contemporary style. It is not being performed for an individual to share with a large audience how great a singer they are. It is not being sung for the self-aggrandizement of the singer. The purpose of the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner is to remind all those in attendance how very fortunate we all are to be able to attend that event in peace.That's all; it's not a time reserved for the singer to mock the song by inventing a new rendition. Sing it right, that is, honorably, and get off the field!!!
If you are going to sing it, learn the words and what they mean! It is poetry, not everyday language and if you are going to sing it, then learn the poetic words and their meanings. If you don't mean what it says, don't sing it! Millions of men and women died for you to have the honor of living in a country that is free of oppression. Millions more sacrificed their lives, even though they lived through combat.
I have sung this song many, many times. It was an honor to do so each and every time. I love this song and what it stands for. I am one of those who did not serve in the military but I am deeply grateful to every single person who did. This is my small way of thanking them.
The next time someone sings this song at a sporting event, I hope they remember that it is not 'ABOUT THEM'!!!
Monday, August 16, 2010
The Gospel According to Castro
If your young children are in the habit of reading this blog, you need to do two things:
1. help them get a life
2. shield their eyes from some of the profanity I am about to use
I am so damn sick and tired of the Mariners losing ball games at the last minute, I could just spit! They did it again tonight. That damn David Aardsma was pitiful in relief. He is supposed to be a major league pitcher - how come he can't throw strikes?? What a bunch of crap!
And offense?? I tell you what, their inability to score runs is absolutely unacceptable! I think their upper-management people should be fired immediately. Seriously!! This is just bull_ _ _ _ !!!
Now, the real topic of my tirade. You know who I am even more sick of??? Fans who are not fans at all!! They are no more than immature, self-centered babies! Their team doesn't win so they have all the answers. They think that the Mariners' upper-management people should be fired immediately!! And they whine about the pitching and the offense being so weak.
Now, before you point your finger at me, let me say this: I haven't missed a game in at least six years, I watch them all. (Just ask RaeLyn, the Queen of Sainthood.) I am a baseball fan and my favorite major league team is the Seattle Mariners. End of discussion.
Baseball is a game. One team wins and one team loses. There are players and they play. Sometimes they play well and sometimes they play less than well. There are umpires. Sometimes (most of the time) they make the right call and sometimes they don't. All of these folks are people, not automatons, nor robots. They are doing the very best that they can at that moment. And by gosh, I hope they win. But when they don't, although I may be angry, they are still my team.
If you don't like the Mariners, that's fine. Then choose a different team to support. But don't you ever give up on your team! Real fans don't ever give up. They just "wait'll next year!!"
1. help them get a life
2. shield their eyes from some of the profanity I am about to use
I am so damn sick and tired of the Mariners losing ball games at the last minute, I could just spit! They did it again tonight. That damn David Aardsma was pitiful in relief. He is supposed to be a major league pitcher - how come he can't throw strikes?? What a bunch of crap!
And offense?? I tell you what, their inability to score runs is absolutely unacceptable! I think their upper-management people should be fired immediately. Seriously!! This is just bull_ _ _ _ !!!
Now, the real topic of my tirade. You know who I am even more sick of??? Fans who are not fans at all!! They are no more than immature, self-centered babies! Their team doesn't win so they have all the answers. They think that the Mariners' upper-management people should be fired immediately!! And they whine about the pitching and the offense being so weak.
Now, before you point your finger at me, let me say this: I haven't missed a game in at least six years, I watch them all. (Just ask RaeLyn, the Queen of Sainthood.) I am a baseball fan and my favorite major league team is the Seattle Mariners. End of discussion.
Baseball is a game. One team wins and one team loses. There are players and they play. Sometimes they play well and sometimes they play less than well. There are umpires. Sometimes (most of the time) they make the right call and sometimes they don't. All of these folks are people, not automatons, nor robots. They are doing the very best that they can at that moment. And by gosh, I hope they win. But when they don't, although I may be angry, they are still my team.
If you don't like the Mariners, that's fine. Then choose a different team to support. But don't you ever give up on your team! Real fans don't ever give up. They just "wait'll next year!!"
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Happy Birthday, Dad (Louis S. Castro 1923-1994)
Today would have been your 87th birthday. And very unlike many of the past years at this time, I would like to wish you a Happy Birthday. You and I never seemed to have ever gotten onto "the same page." You were all about 'work' and 'responsibility' and because of that, I was always about 'play' and 'taking it easy'. You know, you could have backed off a little. It really might have helped us a bit. And you know, it sure would have been nice if you could have played catch with me or taken me to a movie or concert or game or whatever once in a while. On the other hand, I guess I could have been a little more understanding. But I wasn't and you didn't. Perhaps it was the cross that we both had to endure.
RaeLyn and I have two wonderful kids, Jason (32) and Julie (27). Jason is married and has two little girls, Bailey (4) and Madison (2). They are very smart and very cute. Both Jason and his wife, Jill are teachers; he at the high school level and she at the elementary. Both of them hold a Master's degree. He is also the baseball coach and he's very good, Dad!! He was actually voted the 2A Washington State High School Baseball Coach of the Year this year. We are all so very proud of him. He has a wonderful sense of humor and is way smarter than his dad ever was!!
Julie is also a college graduate and is employed at a physical therapy clinic in Everett, as the office manager. She runs a tight ship, Dad, and they love her!! Her fiance, Tyler, is a fine young man who is hoping to become a teacher soon. And they will be married within the next year or so. (I will sure miss her! She is just a delight to be around---just like her Mom!)I know you would have loved her very much!
RaeLyn is still teaching Preschool with Head Start. She is so good with the little ones and they sure love her. She is really looking forward to retirement soon, though. Her job is very demanding and it really takes a toll on her.
I retired from teaching 5 years ago and work now for a mental health agency in Everett as a courier. It is a good job for me and I like the driving. The money comes in handy and it keeps me busy. I really loved teaching music and I honestly found some success there. I really think I was a help for some kids and that makes me feel good.
You know, Dad, although you and I were never much for being friends, I do miss having you around from time to time. I see other men who still have their dads around and I am jealous for that blessing. When I spend time with Jason I realize how much he has to be thankful for. I am not "blowing my own horn" as a dad, but just noticing that Jason still has his father around. I guess in that sense, I miss you.
I thank God, Dad, that you brought me into this world. I am very sorry that we never got to honestly and truly know one another and I look forward to the day that that can happen. You know how much I love baseball (yes, I still love it!!!!). I hope that when the time comes for us to join you, you will take in a game or two with Jason and me. We'd love to have you. Happy Birthday!
RaeLyn and I have two wonderful kids, Jason (32) and Julie (27). Jason is married and has two little girls, Bailey (4) and Madison (2). They are very smart and very cute. Both Jason and his wife, Jill are teachers; he at the high school level and she at the elementary. Both of them hold a Master's degree. He is also the baseball coach and he's very good, Dad!! He was actually voted the 2A Washington State High School Baseball Coach of the Year this year. We are all so very proud of him. He has a wonderful sense of humor and is way smarter than his dad ever was!!
Julie is also a college graduate and is employed at a physical therapy clinic in Everett, as the office manager. She runs a tight ship, Dad, and they love her!! Her fiance, Tyler, is a fine young man who is hoping to become a teacher soon. And they will be married within the next year or so. (I will sure miss her! She is just a delight to be around---just like her Mom!)I know you would have loved her very much!
RaeLyn is still teaching Preschool with Head Start. She is so good with the little ones and they sure love her. She is really looking forward to retirement soon, though. Her job is very demanding and it really takes a toll on her.
I retired from teaching 5 years ago and work now for a mental health agency in Everett as a courier. It is a good job for me and I like the driving. The money comes in handy and it keeps me busy. I really loved teaching music and I honestly found some success there. I really think I was a help for some kids and that makes me feel good.
You know, Dad, although you and I were never much for being friends, I do miss having you around from time to time. I see other men who still have their dads around and I am jealous for that blessing. When I spend time with Jason I realize how much he has to be thankful for. I am not "blowing my own horn" as a dad, but just noticing that Jason still has his father around. I guess in that sense, I miss you.
I thank God, Dad, that you brought me into this world. I am very sorry that we never got to honestly and truly know one another and I look forward to the day that that can happen. You know how much I love baseball (yes, I still love it!!!!). I hope that when the time comes for us to join you, you will take in a game or two with Jason and me. We'd love to have you. Happy Birthday!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Success is Where You Make It
We all have dreams. You know, dreams for the future - what we would like to do with our lives. I was wondering today what it is that pushes each of us toward a particular dream for our lives. What is it that causes us to want to become a fireman or doctor or teacher? Is it our environment at home? Teachers? Friends? Church teachings? I don't know. But what I do know is that we do not have to be raised in the big, bustling city to be successful.
My first teaching job was in a very small Eastern Washington town called Dayton. At that time, Dayton was very busy for a community of about 2,800 folks. Although they produced a lot of wheat, they also employed many people at the Green Giant vegetable canning company. You remember them, "Ho, ho, ho---Green Giant"!! My teaching assignment was four band classes (grade 4 - 12) and one choir (grad 10 - 12). The kids I had were, on the whole, really great and I truly enjoyed them.
One of the classes we did not have in the daily schedule was a jazz band. So I decided that we would start one that would meet after school and maybe we could convince the principal to eventually offer it during the school day. Immediately I had a student ask me if he could play the electric bass. I told him we did not own one and that I really knew nothing about teaching it. He insisted that his parents would buy him a bass and an amplifier. They would even get him lessons!! I could not argue with that. So I said that he could play electric bass. Well, the rest is history. He did very well over the next two years. He played bass ALL the time. He absolutely loved it.
Todd was his name. He went on to become one of the world's finest electric bass players. No really, he truly is a world renowned six-string bass player. He lives in southern California and teaches and travels all over the world. He has written books and has produced teaching DVDs. He even teaches bass lessons online. And he started playing bass in a beginning jazz band in a small wheat-farming community in the middle of nowhere.
But the story does not end there. He was not the only one who had a dream and made it happen. There were many others from my stay in Dayton (only four years) that went on to find an important and successful niche in life. I know I will leave many of them out, but these people come to mind: there is Joe the Ph.D in Pharmacy, Rick the Psychology professor at Idaho State University, there is Ken the Radiology Tech and Jennie who runs the Port of Columbia. There is Vicki who runs her own beauty salon, Steve who is an electrical engineer and his wife, Jeannie, who is an Early Childhood Education professor at Washington State University. Keith is a Network Analyst and Scott coaches high school girls' basketball. There is Taffy who is a Property Manager and there are even three music teachers: Kim, Sharli and Liz. Becky is doing her part to keep our children in safe homes as she works as a social worker and there is Heidi, the physician. Many others, whose names and jobs escape me came from Dayton. I really wish I could remember them all!!
I knew all these people as clarinet, flute, trumpet, sax, trombone and tuba players. There is even a drummer in there. All these people grew up in a community of folks who really cared about offering something important to life. I miss those people and I miss those days. They were good people. People who cared about one another.
One of these days I am going to find a way to see them all again and visit with them. I want to tell them how proud I am of them and how honored I was and am to have been allowed to be their leader for a short time.
Dayton is a place for which I have a special place in my heart. It's a lot smaller now since Green Giant left town. But the people who still live there are the same folks who I remember from the mid-1970's. When I left Dayton, I moved on to bigger things and more advanced musical performers. But the people from Dayton were and are still in my heart. I guess "Once a Bulldog, always a Bulldog!"
My first teaching job was in a very small Eastern Washington town called Dayton. At that time, Dayton was very busy for a community of about 2,800 folks. Although they produced a lot of wheat, they also employed many people at the Green Giant vegetable canning company. You remember them, "Ho, ho, ho---Green Giant"!! My teaching assignment was four band classes (grade 4 - 12) and one choir (grad 10 - 12). The kids I had were, on the whole, really great and I truly enjoyed them.
One of the classes we did not have in the daily schedule was a jazz band. So I decided that we would start one that would meet after school and maybe we could convince the principal to eventually offer it during the school day. Immediately I had a student ask me if he could play the electric bass. I told him we did not own one and that I really knew nothing about teaching it. He insisted that his parents would buy him a bass and an amplifier. They would even get him lessons!! I could not argue with that. So I said that he could play electric bass. Well, the rest is history. He did very well over the next two years. He played bass ALL the time. He absolutely loved it.
Todd was his name. He went on to become one of the world's finest electric bass players. No really, he truly is a world renowned six-string bass player. He lives in southern California and teaches and travels all over the world. He has written books and has produced teaching DVDs. He even teaches bass lessons online. And he started playing bass in a beginning jazz band in a small wheat-farming community in the middle of nowhere.
But the story does not end there. He was not the only one who had a dream and made it happen. There were many others from my stay in Dayton (only four years) that went on to find an important and successful niche in life. I know I will leave many of them out, but these people come to mind: there is Joe the Ph.D in Pharmacy, Rick the Psychology professor at Idaho State University, there is Ken the Radiology Tech and Jennie who runs the Port of Columbia. There is Vicki who runs her own beauty salon, Steve who is an electrical engineer and his wife, Jeannie, who is an Early Childhood Education professor at Washington State University. Keith is a Network Analyst and Scott coaches high school girls' basketball. There is Taffy who is a Property Manager and there are even three music teachers: Kim, Sharli and Liz. Becky is doing her part to keep our children in safe homes as she works as a social worker and there is Heidi, the physician. Many others, whose names and jobs escape me came from Dayton. I really wish I could remember them all!!
I knew all these people as clarinet, flute, trumpet, sax, trombone and tuba players. There is even a drummer in there. All these people grew up in a community of folks who really cared about offering something important to life. I miss those people and I miss those days. They were good people. People who cared about one another.
One of these days I am going to find a way to see them all again and visit with them. I want to tell them how proud I am of them and how honored I was and am to have been allowed to be their leader for a short time.
Dayton is a place for which I have a special place in my heart. It's a lot smaller now since Green Giant left town. But the people who still live there are the same folks who I remember from the mid-1970's. When I left Dayton, I moved on to bigger things and more advanced musical performers. But the people from Dayton were and are still in my heart. I guess "Once a Bulldog, always a Bulldog!"
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Do You Have Heroes?
When I was a kid, I had many heroes. Roy Rodgers, Superman, Marshall Dillon were a few of my TV heroes. I had sports heroes, too. Mickey Mantle, Willie Mays, Roy Campanella and, of course, Roger Maris. Any minister was a hero to me and most teachers, too.
When I first arrived at Snohomish High School I met a woman who became one of the stellar lights of my life. She was in charge of the Special Education Department at the high school and she was a "special" person. There was no one who was exempt from her loving and tolerant treatment. There was really no infraction she would not overlook. Of course, she had standards, and they were high. But she simply loved all people, smart or not, handsome or not, wealthy or not. It made no difference to her who you were, she was going to love you. No matter what!! I mean it, too. She simply made up her mind you would be loved. And you were!
She once asked if I would be interested in teaching a music class for older special ed students. She thought if I could just lead them in some kind of music lesson each day, they would enjoy it. She told me that they may not remember tomorrow what I taught them today, but that was not important. I was pretty reticent but she assured me that there would be an aide to bring them to class each day and would stay in the class to keep an eye on them. So I finally acquiesced.
I will never forget those kids! They were awesome! They were polite, they listened everso attentively and they asked the best questions. We learned about how a piano was made, how sound came out of instruments, we had a composer come and write a new piece of music right before their eyes (and ears). At the end of the year we acted out the story of the Herdmann kids from "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". Somebody read the story and the kids acted. It was hilarious! They had so much fun and I learned so much from them. They were my heroes!
Whenever there was a problem on campus, this wonderful "special ed lady" knew exactly how to handle it. I will always remember her with fondness and respect. Her name was Doris Wentworth and she passed away this past Tuesday, aged 83. In 1985, I had sung for some school event and afterward, she asked me if I would sing for her funeral. I laughingly said that I would, knowing that we both probably would forget about it. Well, we didn't. I got a call three weeks ago and she was calling to say that the time would soon be nigh and would I still be willing to sing for her funeral. I told her I was not singing anymore, but that for her, I would be honored to sing.
I went to her house and we had one last visit. Even as she was approaching death, she was humble and joyful and smiling. I really believe that when God was creating Doris, He was sending us an example of what real human love is all about. Thank you, God for people like Doris. Thank you, Doris for being one of my heroes!
When I first arrived at Snohomish High School I met a woman who became one of the stellar lights of my life. She was in charge of the Special Education Department at the high school and she was a "special" person. There was no one who was exempt from her loving and tolerant treatment. There was really no infraction she would not overlook. Of course, she had standards, and they were high. But she simply loved all people, smart or not, handsome or not, wealthy or not. It made no difference to her who you were, she was going to love you. No matter what!! I mean it, too. She simply made up her mind you would be loved. And you were!
She once asked if I would be interested in teaching a music class for older special ed students. She thought if I could just lead them in some kind of music lesson each day, they would enjoy it. She told me that they may not remember tomorrow what I taught them today, but that was not important. I was pretty reticent but she assured me that there would be an aide to bring them to class each day and would stay in the class to keep an eye on them. So I finally acquiesced.
I will never forget those kids! They were awesome! They were polite, they listened everso attentively and they asked the best questions. We learned about how a piano was made, how sound came out of instruments, we had a composer come and write a new piece of music right before their eyes (and ears). At the end of the year we acted out the story of the Herdmann kids from "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever". Somebody read the story and the kids acted. It was hilarious! They had so much fun and I learned so much from them. They were my heroes!
Whenever there was a problem on campus, this wonderful "special ed lady" knew exactly how to handle it. I will always remember her with fondness and respect. Her name was Doris Wentworth and she passed away this past Tuesday, aged 83. In 1985, I had sung for some school event and afterward, she asked me if I would sing for her funeral. I laughingly said that I would, knowing that we both probably would forget about it. Well, we didn't. I got a call three weeks ago and she was calling to say that the time would soon be nigh and would I still be willing to sing for her funeral. I told her I was not singing anymore, but that for her, I would be honored to sing.
I went to her house and we had one last visit. Even as she was approaching death, she was humble and joyful and smiling. I really believe that when God was creating Doris, He was sending us an example of what real human love is all about. Thank you, God for people like Doris. Thank you, Doris for being one of my heroes!
Monday, August 2, 2010
Good 'ol S.H.S.
"How'd you like to be a Panther?" It was Ray Johnson's voice in my phone. I had applied and interviewed for the Choral Music position at Snohomish High School and he was calling me to see if I would accept the job. If I said "Yes" I would have to give up a brand new, beautiful brick home that my father-in-law built for us in Port Townsend. But it was the job of my dreams and I wanted it badly. My family would have to move and start all over again, but I knew I had my wife's support. I said I would take the job!!!
Over the next 22 years I worked my tail off. I spent many out-of-school hours in the office planning, rehearsing groups, going to workshops and spending hours at the music shop looking for new tunes. I loved it!
I took the choirs on some wonderful trips: Victoria, B.C., Vancouver, B.C. Eastern Washington, Oregon, California. We even made two trips to the People's Republic of China. We competed in many vocal jazz festivals, sang for churches, concerts and celebrations.
There were Donn Pratts and Tom Campbells, there were Kelley Gintys and Erik Flynns, there were Amy Kings and Eric Verlindes, there were Melissa Enzs and Tom Storks,there were Zach Trandums and Shanna Weatherbys. I thought they were all very special.
My walls at home now are filled with photos of groups of singers that were my "pride and joy". Some of these groups were festival winners and others barely received a certificate. It wasn't about winning. It was about making music and enjoying the "journey" in doing so.
If you haven't been there lately, you should stop by. Snohomish High School is no longer the Snohomish High School I knew. In fact, where the Music Building was and where my office and rehearsal room were, is now a patch of beautiful green grass; like a bare lawn. For a while it was just sawdust, but then they planted grass.
The saddest part is: it is as if I was never there! If you go by, and you should, you will not see any evidence that Pat Castro and the Concert Choir, The Women's Ensemble or The Crimson Singers were ever there.
We go through life believing that we are so very important and that the world cannot go on without us. Boy, do I have news for you!!! I guess it will go on just fine!!
The thing that I learned is that the most important things that happen in life, stay in our hearts and in our memories. I am learning that that is where life really matters the most. I have many memories from my years at S.H.S. Not all are good, but they are all memorable. Life goes on, with us or without us. I'm just glad that I got to be a small part of all the wonderful people that were placed in my life at Snohomish High School. I am certainly a better person because of them!!!
Over the next 22 years I worked my tail off. I spent many out-of-school hours in the office planning, rehearsing groups, going to workshops and spending hours at the music shop looking for new tunes. I loved it!
I took the choirs on some wonderful trips: Victoria, B.C., Vancouver, B.C. Eastern Washington, Oregon, California. We even made two trips to the People's Republic of China. We competed in many vocal jazz festivals, sang for churches, concerts and celebrations.
There were Donn Pratts and Tom Campbells, there were Kelley Gintys and Erik Flynns, there were Amy Kings and Eric Verlindes, there were Melissa Enzs and Tom Storks,there were Zach Trandums and Shanna Weatherbys. I thought they were all very special.
My walls at home now are filled with photos of groups of singers that were my "pride and joy". Some of these groups were festival winners and others barely received a certificate. It wasn't about winning. It was about making music and enjoying the "journey" in doing so.
If you haven't been there lately, you should stop by. Snohomish High School is no longer the Snohomish High School I knew. In fact, where the Music Building was and where my office and rehearsal room were, is now a patch of beautiful green grass; like a bare lawn. For a while it was just sawdust, but then they planted grass.
The saddest part is: it is as if I was never there! If you go by, and you should, you will not see any evidence that Pat Castro and the Concert Choir, The Women's Ensemble or The Crimson Singers were ever there.
We go through life believing that we are so very important and that the world cannot go on without us. Boy, do I have news for you!!! I guess it will go on just fine!!
The thing that I learned is that the most important things that happen in life, stay in our hearts and in our memories. I am learning that that is where life really matters the most. I have many memories from my years at S.H.S. Not all are good, but they are all memorable. Life goes on, with us or without us. I'm just glad that I got to be a small part of all the wonderful people that were placed in my life at Snohomish High School. I am certainly a better person because of them!!!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Musical Alone-ness
My parents were both musical. They were not great musicians, but they both participated in some kind of musical endeavor. My mom was a pianist. Again, not great but advanced enough to play for church and for an occasional wedding. My dad, completely untrained, was a tenor. Being Mexican, he had a kind of a European taste in music. He really loved the traditional operatic music and also a lot of what they called "the light classics."
My father had a few records around the house and was always collecting a few more. He really loved Mario Lanza, the great Italian-American tenor of the '40s and '50s. He knew a great deal about some of the great classical singers and sometimes he would share about some of them: Bidu Sayao, Yma Sumac, Richard Tucker, Jan Peerce, John Charles Thomas, Enrico Caruso and many more.
I was hooked from the very beginning. I love opera. I love German Lieder. I love vocal solo music from all countries and in all languages. I also love instrumental music. Brahms, Mendelssohn, Copland, Hanson, Strauss, Bach, Beethoven. I love polkas, waltzes, symphonies, string quartets, piano sonatas, violin concertos. I love Yo-Yo Ma, Jussi Bjoerling, Rafael Mendez, The Boston Symphony, The United States Marine Band, (The President's Own). I love all classical music.
I own about 500 record albums and over 1100 CD's. These represent my aesthetic and artistic beliefs. I listen to music for spiritual cleansing, for musical enlightenment, for understanding. But always, I listen to music for musical enjoyment. This music "speaks my language". The problem is this:
NOBODY I KNOW SPEAKS THIS LANGUAGE
I am the only person in my family that speaks this language. Not my lovely wife; not my beautiful daughter; not my athletic son. Although I think they respect my deep love of great music, they still see me (and it) as some kind of wierd.
Music, to me, has always been a spiritual way of living. It doesn't matter to me what style of music is being played or sung. I am still moved in my soul. Music is my balm and it always leads me to a spiritual place; a place where I am alone with God and where, if I relax and listen with my heart and not my ears, I can feel God come close.
I guess it is better to be alone and be able to feel God's presence, than to be with other people and not be within His grasp!! I am grateful!!
My father had a few records around the house and was always collecting a few more. He really loved Mario Lanza, the great Italian-American tenor of the '40s and '50s. He knew a great deal about some of the great classical singers and sometimes he would share about some of them: Bidu Sayao, Yma Sumac, Richard Tucker, Jan Peerce, John Charles Thomas, Enrico Caruso and many more.
I was hooked from the very beginning. I love opera. I love German Lieder. I love vocal solo music from all countries and in all languages. I also love instrumental music. Brahms, Mendelssohn, Copland, Hanson, Strauss, Bach, Beethoven. I love polkas, waltzes, symphonies, string quartets, piano sonatas, violin concertos. I love Yo-Yo Ma, Jussi Bjoerling, Rafael Mendez, The Boston Symphony, The United States Marine Band, (The President's Own). I love all classical music.
I own about 500 record albums and over 1100 CD's. These represent my aesthetic and artistic beliefs. I listen to music for spiritual cleansing, for musical enlightenment, for understanding. But always, I listen to music for musical enjoyment. This music "speaks my language". The problem is this:
NOBODY I KNOW SPEAKS THIS LANGUAGE
I am the only person in my family that speaks this language. Not my lovely wife; not my beautiful daughter; not my athletic son. Although I think they respect my deep love of great music, they still see me (and it) as some kind of wierd.
Music, to me, has always been a spiritual way of living. It doesn't matter to me what style of music is being played or sung. I am still moved in my soul. Music is my balm and it always leads me to a spiritual place; a place where I am alone with God and where, if I relax and listen with my heart and not my ears, I can feel God come close.
I guess it is better to be alone and be able to feel God's presence, than to be with other people and not be within His grasp!! I am grateful!!
Monday, July 26, 2010
Who are these people?
I drive for a living. I work for a local, community-based mental health agency and I am a Courier. You know, the guy who delivers and picks up inter-office mail, confidential medical files, client medications and anything else that needs to be picked up or delivered. I drive as far south as Lynnwood, Washington in the morning and as far north as Sedro Woolley, Washington in the afternoon. It's a total of about 225 miles every day.
I really like this job, for reasons that I will probably write about at some future date. But for now here is my story.
I drive safely. I don't speed (by very much) and I always signal, look in my mirrors, and, above all, I am courteous to others. My mother taught me that courtesy would always pay big dividends and it is true, if the others are also interested in being courteous.
So today I was driving north on I-5. Around Smokey Point I was passed by a Mercedes driven by a well dressed, middle-aged man. This man had a three-ring binder balanced on his steering wheel; his right arm resting comfortably on the head rest of the passenger seat and his left hand held his cell phone to his left ear. I guess he was steering with his knees. As I was traveling at 75 mph at the time and he passed me VERY quickly, I surmised that he must have been going at least 85 mph, perhaps faster.
He was to my left and when he was about a half car length ahead of me he quickly pulled into my lane. I slammed on my brakes and honked the horn. What do you think happened? HE flipped ME off! HE flipped ME off! What gall!
This guy had the nerve to insult me when he was the one who was endangering both of our lives! I really wanted to do something but . . .what? What can one do?
Who are these people? Who are these people who no longer care about their fellow human beings? Who are these people who disobey laws? Who are disrespectful in furthering their own desires? What are they teaching their children? And what are the rest of us going to do about these peoples' self-centered habits? What can we do?
Sometimes I worry about where we are going and what we are doing!!!
I really like this job, for reasons that I will probably write about at some future date. But for now here is my story.
I drive safely. I don't speed (by very much) and I always signal, look in my mirrors, and, above all, I am courteous to others. My mother taught me that courtesy would always pay big dividends and it is true, if the others are also interested in being courteous.
So today I was driving north on I-5. Around Smokey Point I was passed by a Mercedes driven by a well dressed, middle-aged man. This man had a three-ring binder balanced on his steering wheel; his right arm resting comfortably on the head rest of the passenger seat and his left hand held his cell phone to his left ear. I guess he was steering with his knees. As I was traveling at 75 mph at the time and he passed me VERY quickly, I surmised that he must have been going at least 85 mph, perhaps faster.
He was to my left and when he was about a half car length ahead of me he quickly pulled into my lane. I slammed on my brakes and honked the horn. What do you think happened? HE flipped ME off! HE flipped ME off! What gall!
This guy had the nerve to insult me when he was the one who was endangering both of our lives! I really wanted to do something but . . .what? What can one do?
Who are these people? Who are these people who no longer care about their fellow human beings? Who are these people who disobey laws? Who are disrespectful in furthering their own desires? What are they teaching their children? And what are the rest of us going to do about these peoples' self-centered habits? What can we do?
Sometimes I worry about where we are going and what we are doing!!!
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Talent Is Talent
Our daughter, Julie, was an amazing artist when she was in high school. She created some absolutely wonderful pieces which were commissioned by the United Methodist Church and were used in some national meetings. She was selected as the Art Department Scholar of the Year in her senior year (2001)and we all thought she would major in Art in college. She didn't!!
She informed us that she wanted to create when she felt the urge to do so, not when some faculty person told her she needed to create for a grade. It sounded logical. But then her creative juices seemed to die out and she wasn't really doing much in the way of art for a couple of years.
In the last four months she has begun to create jewelry and make it available for sale on the Internet. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, headbands are all included in her catalogue. And I am telling you, they are truly beautiful!
Now tonight she decided she wanted to make a gift for her boyfriend's grandmother. She had previously taken a number of photos of flowers and had these photos printed and mounted in a frame. I was stunned!! Where did she learn to shoot photos like that??
I guess I did not understand her talent at all. Being an artist does not mean that one can create fine paintings or lovely drawings or amazing sculptures. Being an artist is a way of thinking; a manner in which we see the world. Julie sees the world in such a beautiful way and she is so dynamic in her awareness and ability to share her view with the rest of us.
I am deeply moved by her profound awareness of life, beauty and things that truly matter in this life. God Almighty, you have blest me beyond my understanding!! And I bow before You in gratitude!
She informed us that she wanted to create when she felt the urge to do so, not when some faculty person told her she needed to create for a grade. It sounded logical. But then her creative juices seemed to die out and she wasn't really doing much in the way of art for a couple of years.
In the last four months she has begun to create jewelry and make it available for sale on the Internet. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, headbands are all included in her catalogue. And I am telling you, they are truly beautiful!
Now tonight she decided she wanted to make a gift for her boyfriend's grandmother. She had previously taken a number of photos of flowers and had these photos printed and mounted in a frame. I was stunned!! Where did she learn to shoot photos like that??
I guess I did not understand her talent at all. Being an artist does not mean that one can create fine paintings or lovely drawings or amazing sculptures. Being an artist is a way of thinking; a manner in which we see the world. Julie sees the world in such a beautiful way and she is so dynamic in her awareness and ability to share her view with the rest of us.
I am deeply moved by her profound awareness of life, beauty and things that truly matter in this life. God Almighty, you have blest me beyond my understanding!! And I bow before You in gratitude!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Becoming Papa Pat
About four and a half years ago I became a grandfather. Because of that blessed event I immediately became Papa Pat. I couldn't have been prouder! As I took on the name of Papa Pat, I wanted to know my responsibilities. What was I to do. Who was I to be? Must I always be 'wise'? How would I get them to love me?
As it turns out, I had the questions all wrong. My granddaughters, Bailey, 4 1/2 and Madison, 2 are not so much the receivers in our relationship. I am! They give love, they give laughter, they give reality and they give themselves. All of these things come from them freely! I don't have to ask them.
I guess I am simply an extremely blest father because my own children were exactly the same; they were very giving and loving. They always were respectful and wanted to please both RaeLyn and I. As much as I tried to teach them, I ended up being the one who was learning and they were my teachers.
Bailey and Madison are the sweetest little girls. They tease and laugh and wrestle and shout and cry and dig in the dirt and name trees and see bees and pick flowers and cheer for their Daddy's team and tickle their Papa Pat!!!! I couldn't be prouder! Isn't life good??? No, really, isn't it good?
As it turns out, I had the questions all wrong. My granddaughters, Bailey, 4 1/2 and Madison, 2 are not so much the receivers in our relationship. I am! They give love, they give laughter, they give reality and they give themselves. All of these things come from them freely! I don't have to ask them.
I guess I am simply an extremely blest father because my own children were exactly the same; they were very giving and loving. They always were respectful and wanted to please both RaeLyn and I. As much as I tried to teach them, I ended up being the one who was learning and they were my teachers.
Bailey and Madison are the sweetest little girls. They tease and laugh and wrestle and shout and cry and dig in the dirt and name trees and see bees and pick flowers and cheer for their Daddy's team and tickle their Papa Pat!!!! I couldn't be prouder! Isn't life good??? No, really, isn't it good?
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