harmonicminer

I spent much of my youth in the Boy Scouts.  Simply put, it was a great experience, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  In fact I think a lot of what has shaped my character can be traced directly back to my Scouting experience.  To this day I take great pride in the fact that I earned the rank of Eagle Scout -  it still appears on my resume, some 35 years later.

I was fortunate enough to be part of a very active Scout troop.  We hiked, we camped, we climbed mountains and floated down rivers, we performed community service and we went to Scout camp. We were out camping at least one weekend every month of the year and a couple weeks during the summer. I was even fortunate enough to travel to other countries as a Scout.  It was a tremendous experience.

But what made the greatest impact on my life was not the camping, or the hiking or the mountain climbing, or any of the other activities.  No, what helped me to mature and to learn about life was being around the men who volunteered to be Scout leaders and to give so selflessly of their time.  Men who often had just 2 weeks paid vacation each year, and regularly spent both of them on a Scout trip.  Men who had wives who must have been angels.

I was blessed to encounter men all along the way who taught me what growing up was all about.  Men who took the time to spend time with boys and to point the way to manhood.  Most I knew just by their first names, some had Scouting nicknames like Jolly, Bubbles, Rock-Ape and Kahuna – names that sound so silly now but seemed to fit the men so well at the time.  In some cases it was years before I actually knew their real names.

It was always a shock to me when I found out what jobs these men had in the “real” world.  They were electricians, phone company linesmen, defense contractor technicians, construction workers, teachers – blue collar workers almost to a man.  Their jobs seemed so small and insignificant, compared to the lives they lead as Scouters and as heroes to me and many other boys like me.   I almost never saw them wear anything but scout uniforms and almost all the interaction I had with them were on a dusty mountain trail or out in the woods around a campfire.  Years later when I would chance to meet one wearing civilian clothes I often thought how awkward and out-of-place they seemed in long pants and a necktie.

These men were not perfect. But that didn’t matter.  They were men who cared about helping boys become men.  In fact, the man who was my Scoutmaster for many years was anything but a dynamic or particularly inspiring person.  He was soft-spoken, not very graceful, kind of shy and kept a full beard to conceal big ears that stuck out quite a ways from his head.  (One time he did shave off his beard and scared us all very badly). But he loved Scouting and it was infectious.  He loved the outdoors and he took us there so we could learn to love it too.  He loved and respected boys and he earned the love and respect of the boys he was with.  He provided opportunity for us to experience, to learn, and to grow.  He wasn’t exceptionally articulate, or a motivational speaker, most of the time he did his job simply by showing up and teaching us how to do things like build campfires, paddle a kayak, and set up tents.  But oh… those were such valuable times.

My old Scoutmaster lives a quiet life these days.  He is retired, he survived a bout with cancer and has a little trouble getting around now.  He will never win a medal, he’ll never be written up in a newspaper or a magazine. No one will erect a statue of him in a city park after he is gone.  But he has an enviable legacy.  For scattered all around this country (and perhaps the world) are a group of now grown up boys who themselves have families, careers, and lives in their communities.  Men like me.  Men who remember what they were taught about honesty, trustworthiness, loyalty, honor, duty, perseverance and other important building blocks of character.  Men who form a living tribute to those who took the time to help them when they were boys.  Men who are now engaged in passing along those same values to the next generation, perhaps even to a group of young men in a Boy Scout troop, sitting around a campfire somewhere.

The farther I move through life the more I appreciate what these men did for me and what a tremendous debt of gratitude I have for them. I wish I could track them all down and thank each of them individually, but I wouldn’t know where to look and I’m also pretty sure at least some have passed by now.  Others just moved away or faded away, leaving Scouting when their boys grew older, returning to their very normal lives.    So, In lieu of a personal word of thanks to each, let me just say it here once for all.  Thank you.  Thank you all very much.  I found my way to manhood.  It was right where you told me it would be. My hope and prayer is that if you saw my life today you would think the time you invested in me was time well spent.

The L.A. Times reports today that “Roman Polanski is depressed and in an “unsettled state of mind” as he begins his third week in a Zurich jail, his attorney told two Swiss newspapers.”

Gee that’s terrible.  I wonder if Samantha Geimer ever had any bad days after Polanski raped and sodomized her when she was thirteen.

Of course many in the film business have circled the wagons around one of their own.  The list of signatories to the petition “demanding” the release of Polanski is appalling in it’s length.  To think there are this many humans on earth who believe Polanski’s resume’ trumps his despicable actions is simply nauseating.  Perhaps all of those who signed the petition would like to send one of their young children over to meet the “great” director – alone – at Jack Nicholson’s house.  Whoopi Goldberg will be there as acting chaperone, so no parent need worry.  There will be no “rape-rape” while Whoopi is in the house.

But I do wonder if Polanski will actually be extradited…  I wonder if he will serve jail time…  I wonder if he will be sodomized while in jail…

Well, if he is, at least we know it won’t be “rape-rape”.  And if his attacker plays his cards right, a long list of celebrities may sign a petition demanding HIS release!

UPDATE: Dennis Prager has an excellent article on this same subject.

Wednesday July 26, 2009: Ed Thomas, football coach of Aplington-Parkersburg High School in Parkersburg, Iowa, is shot and killed by a mentally disturbed former student.

Thursday, June 27, 2009: Pop star Michael Jackson dies of an apparent cardiac arrest, possibly brought on by a drug overdose.

Could there be two lives more unalike, more disassociated, and more stark in contrast.  And yet, they were brought together for at least a moment, by a shared sordid and sensational means of death and accompanying national headline.

The death of Coach Thomas has already been forgotten by most. His death would have been anonymous had it not been for the headline-grabbing manner in which he was killed.  I also happen to believe the story would have rekindled gun-control debate in the press for a longer period of time had Michael Jackson’s death not pushed it from the front page the following day.

The reason everyone knows about the death of Michael Jackson is obvious – he was arguably one of the most famous celebrities on the planet.  The manner in which he died is yet to be determined, though there is already sinister speculation and allegations of a drug overdose.  And with celebrities, especially this one, there will always be reasons their death remains in the news long after they are laid to rest.

Much can be said about the lives of these two men.  Both were very influential within their sphere of influence, one in a town of 1,900 people, one on a world stage.  Both deaths had a profound impact on those who knew them.  Both met with what we would all agree is an untimely death.  Both apparently died at the hands of another, though the full truth about Michael Jackson may never really be known. But there are some very important differences to note and as I do so I intend no disrespect to the memory of either man.

While Michael Jackson enjoyed an amazing level of popularity and success as an artist that few ever obtain, he paid dearly for his celebrity in private life.  With great fame and fortune come equally great pressures as ones personal life is exposed in the public spotlight. Most celebrities struggle constantly with keeping a degree of privacy and normalcy in their lives.  Rumors of personal eccentricities from quirky to criminal followed Michael everywhere.  Serious charges of pedophilia left him forever tainted in the public eye.  And whether or not Michael was a pedophile his penchant for surrounding himself with young boys would hardly be considered normal.  Michael was also obviously uncomfortable in his own skin.  Repeated plastic surgeries throughout his life are not symptomatic of someone who has a healthy self-image.

We mourn the loss of Michael Jackson largely because of nostalgia.  His music was so popular and inextricably linked to a season of our lives.  When the music maker dies it also somehow brings an end to that part of our lives associated with that music.  When I was a young boy I remember crying very hard upon hearing a news broadcast announcing the death of Walt Disney.  I had never met the man, but I had certainly been to Disneyland and understood all things Disney would never be quite the same again.

We mourn the loss of a great artist.  We mourn also the passing of that season in our own lives.  We are sad we’ll never hear or see this great talent again. But for the most part, much like it was for me with Walt Disney, we mourn the memory, we do not mourn the loss of Michael Jackson, the man.  A man whose life was sadly warped and twisted by forces beyond the control of the tender, gentle soul he seemed to be.

In stark contrast is the life of Coach Ed Thomas. No one achieves fame or fortune by being a high school football coach in a very small Iowa town.  Apparently he was a very successful coach (including 2 state titles and 4 team alums who are now in the NFL) and as such received more lucrative and higher-profile college coaching offers but turned them all down.  I think it is safe to say he had other priorities that were entirely unrelated to fame or fortune. A year earlier when a tornado ripped through the middle of their small town it was Coach Thomas who stood as a pillar of strength, galvanizing their community to rebuild as they buried their dead.  Such deeds never seem to garner great publicity but it is clear what this man meant to his community.  Phrases like “he was the rock this community was built on” and descriptions such as “our icon” give testimony about the sort of man that was Ed Thomas. (click here to read more about the life and death of Coach Ed Thomas)

2,500 people attended the funeral of Coach Thomas.  That is 131% of Parkersburg’s population.  (If the same percentage of L.A.’s population had come to Michael Jackson’s funeral the attendance would have been almost 13 million)

Two lives entirely unrelated but for their deaths.  Two lives about as different as two lives can be.  But what is the significant difference to me?  i think I can best sum it up this way:

I might point to Michael Jackson and tell my son, “When you grow up I want you to sing like he did.”

But..

I will point to Ed Thomas and tell my son, “When you grow up, I want you to be the kind of man he was.”

I spend most of my occupational time teaching these days.  It is the most recent step in a career evolution that has spanned 33 years and counting.  I was fortunate enough to have figured out ways of making my passion my vocation and thus have enjoyed a professional career in the music virtually all my adult life. There was a brief detour for a couple years in real estate investing or what is now called “house-flipping”.  The one good thing I can say about that is…I survived (just barely).

The full-time teaching chapter of my story has so far occupied about ten years, though I have taught in some capacity pretty much since I got out of college.  I suppose that means I’ve been around long enough to have formed some opinions and perspectives on the subject of learning, particularly in the area of music.  I freely admit the following observations are purely anecdotal, based on nothing more than my own life experiences and would not stand the challenge of academic rigor.

To put it bluntly, many college students with whom I come in contact on a daily basis display a disturbing lack of passion, curiosity, self-motivation or determination. There are very few young people I encounter with any real fire in their belly! Continue reading “E for Effort?”

I am an Eagle Scout.  I say that with no small amount of pride for I consider it to be one of my proudest achievements.  It is the highest award given by The Boy Scouts of America and it represents a great deal of commitment and hard work.  It also means I had some great fun and amazing experiences during my years in Scouting. Thankfully, (so far) the Eagle Scout Award is still recognized as a major milestone in the life of a young man and a positive reflection of leadership and character.   I know much of my character was shaped through Scouting and I will be forever grateful for how it helped my journey to manhood. I will also always hold a debt of gratitude to the wonderful men who gave of their time so selflessly and who willingly shared of themselves to help me and other boys navigate their path to manhood.

It is only now with the passage of years I can look back with clarity and see ways in which my character was forged.  The lessons were simple but profound, sometimes learned through planned activities many times just in the course of having fun in the outdoors.  Scouting taught me self-reliance when I had to cook my own food or go hungry.  I learned perseverance each time I lugged a full backpack to the top of a mountain.  Honesty and integrity were always before me, modeled by the men who guided me and provided opportunity. Responsibility came as I assumed leadership positions and learned to make decisions that affected others. Teamwork was always a priority in challenges and obstacles that could not be overcome alone.  Resourcefulness came as I learned to survive with only what I carried on my back for days at a time.  Through activities ranging from cooking to climbing, fire starting to map reading, mountain climbing to fence building I traveled the path from boyhood to manhood in the special camaraderie that is Scouting.

Time was always taken to consider character and to learn about virtue, often through stories.  Some of the most profound moments of my boyhood took place around a campfire as I listened to tales of Indian warriors, brave soldiers, intrepid explorers, and other heroes, both real and fictional.  Also from my first recitation as a Tenderfoot Scout to this very day I have never forgotten the Scout Oath and Law – noble ideals, the cornerstone of what it means to be a Scout.

One glance at the news headlines shows our country seems to be shedding virtues like a dog’s winter coat in the spring. Our great nation seems to have lost the virtue of self-reliance – we now have bailouts and handouts.  We don’t honor honesty or integrity, we tolerate lies and corruption.  We have no real leaders, only people who will do and say whatever they must to get what they want.  There is no sense of perseverance, instead we are quick to point a finger of blame and demand “justice” at the first sign of difficulty in our lives.

As for me, I want no bailout, no handout, no benefits I have not earned, no redistribution, rebate, or refund, nothing universal and nothing guaranteed.  I just want the freedom to succeed or fail by the sweat of my brow.  I want to live a life of freedom, virtue, character and strength and I want my children to learn to do likewise. Corny? Perhaps.  But the principles of Scouting were never meant to be trendy, they were meant to build leaders.

Our country has been blessed by many men who, as boys embraced Scouting, followed the Eagle trail, and then applied the lessons learned as adults.  In fact the list is pretty impressive. I am proud and thankful to count myself among them.