How Many Mantle Cards Does A Boy Need?

It's October...The World Series is around the corner...The White Sox are in...the last time they were involved, the heros of the day were Mantle, Mays, Ted Williams,Stan Musial, Warren Spahn, Whitey Ford, Duke Snider....excuse me while I drift......................     

In 1960, this country was embroiled in a Cold War with an unrelenting Russia. It was still mending itself from two brutal back to back wars (W.W.II & The Korean War), and in suberbs everywhere,  frightened homeowners were building bomb shelters!
   Despite the political controversy, the biggest debate of the day was "who is better, Mantle or Mays?"
   Perhaps, the only real consolation of that time was the purchasing power of a nickel. Milkyway bars, A scoop of ice cream,a small bag of chips, all a nickel!
  For a ten year old boy, nothing could compare to the 5 cent pack of baseball cards with a slab of gum! Just the actual purchase, became part of ritual!
  I can recall those days after school, when my friends and I would converge on a luncheonette where the cards were sold. We would eyeball the the open box, and one at a time one of us would reach in, our fingers touching each pack and waiting for a divine signal to stop and select that magical pack of cards. We would each remove our only nickel from our pockets and hand them to the overweight cashier who would say "Hey! You messed up the box!"...
  We exited the luncheonette where the "ritual" continued. Bobby had a "lucky spot" that he would go to, which was up against the mailbox. David would place the pack on top of his head, close his eyes and silently meditate the names of players he wished would be in the pack. Me? I would hold the pack,oozing with the sweet odor the bubblegum, to my lips, "please...Mantle....Musial....Mays" I would pray. Then we bagan opening our packs. The silence broken with a shriek "Oh My God! I got Hank Aaron"..and another screeh from the mailbox, "Clemente! I got Clemente!"..."Oh man Berra and Ernie Banks!" There never was a dissapointment when opening up those packs!
  That was, til Ken joined our "buying ritual". Ken came from a wealthier backround, and alaways had a pocketful of quarters and dimes. While we were carefully selecting our packs, as if trying to sort out the finest diamond from a lot, Ken would just grab a fistful of packs and reach in his pocket to pay.Ken did not have a ritual, he simply tore the packs open, "got it, got it, need it, got it in triples" is all he said as he flashed through the cards. Bobby, David and I would watch in awe, "he got 3 kluzuskis, 2 Mantles, and his 4th Warren Spahn!" Once in a while we could strike a trade with Kenny, but he was never magnaminous despite having quintuplets of a certain player.
   I can still recall, coming home and adding my new cards to the ones I already had, and crossing their names off the checklist of the ones that I still needed.
   Each night, before going to bed, I would reveiw my rubberbanded deck. I would make a clearing on my bed, and create my own all-star team. "catching tonight will be Yogi Berra, Gil Hodges at First base, Bobby Richardson at second.."  As I laid out my "team" I realized that I did not really need 2 or 3 Mantles, the one I had looked real good with Mays in left and Hank Aaron in rightfield.
    The years quickly passed, adolesence ushered in new interests. Closets and drawers were emptied. The things that once meant all the world to me, lost their place on that list, and the cards were discarded.
    Some 30 years later, I found myself escorting my 10 year old son into a card store and had the priviledge of watching him dig his small hand into the bottom of a display of cards and walk outside to certain spot, and hold the pack to his lips.."Clemmens, McQuire, Ripkin" he would chant. I confess to fighting    
fighting back the tears as joy would overcome his face, "Look  Dad, Clemmens, Bonds and Nolan Ryan in the same pack!"
   Then at night, to walk into his room, he fast asleep, with a deck still tucked in his fist...I truely understood, its not how many Mantles you can have in your hand,but how much appreciation,imagination and love you can hold in your heart!

    ....We all surrender or lose the most precious elements we could ever imagine having.....while we can't bring back what is lost or surrendered, can be healed with imagination, hope and love! May your dreams take you there...one day at a time, one step at a time.....   Marc :)

What's My Line?

It was one of the first "quiz"shows aired on TV.."What's My Line?"....  A guest would be invited on the stage and 3 ( TV Celebs) would  each have a turn to ask the guest a question....after accumulating the answers, they had the task of guessing what that guest was "famous" for. Many times the panel would be stumped....and incorrectly guessed what the guest was all about.

   It's not so easy to figure someone out, even when you have interrogated the person with 20 personal questions.

  This entry is prompted by several J-landers who have recently written in their journals about receiving wicked and biting comments left for them. This is for the J-landers who write with anger and sadness about the harsh judgement they receive from relatives ..co-workers...people in the supermarket...and spouses.

        It was 4 years ago that I went up to NY to attend a memorial service for a friend of mine who lost his brother in 9/11.  It had been awhile since being in that surburbian town, and not wanting to get completely lost, I drove slow, carefully reading the street signs. I came to a road that narrowed, barely enough room for two cars to pass. I felt I was close to the house, and so I slowed down to read the house numbers. It was then I noticed a car behind me, riding very close. He flashed his lights....there was really no room for me to pull over.....he tapped his horn....."any house now" I told myself.....Then came the HONKS!...."alright alright" I muttered....and looking into my rear view mirror I could see the look of rage writtin into his face.....and then....the FINGER!.....That's it...he crossed the line. I stopped my car, got out and quickly walked to his car. Just as he rolled down his window I said firmly..."Pardon me for holding you up, but I am looking for the home of Max. /////......Who is holding a memorial service for his brother,who was killed  in the attack on the World Trade Center!!.....The mans face dropped!  "Oh my...please forgive me" he said, barely able to speak the words..."I thought you were just another "Sunday driver" not giving a hoot who was behind you....but I am wrong..I apologize......what home are you looking for?"  I handed  him the directions I had....."Oh my, you are on the North side heading in the wrong direction...you need to be heading South....look, ...I'll take you to his place, its only a few minutes from here...we'll have to make U-turns...just follow me".

     As I followed the man, I mused.....here is a man that 60 seconds ago, was cursing me to hell, and now this same man, once he became aware of what I was about...is now my personal escort!....and without his help..I would have remained lost for quite some time!"

    Remember fellow j-landers....once people take the time to know who we are, and what we are about...once we let others know who we are....the honking, cursing, criticizing, the slander ceases, and then...the kindness and understanding can begin!

Wishing all..simple measures of both!  Marc :)

 

 

APEMAN

   The common thread of success that connects Bill Gates (founder, Microsoft) Steve Jobs (Founder Apple Computer) and me, is the age at which they were hurled through the "door" of  fame and wealth. They were both in their twenties. Most of the worlds wealthiest and famous all had their destiny jump started while being "twenty something".  

    I have sometimes wondered..."what happened to me?"..."I was twenty something too...did I oversleep on the day that destiny had its door open to me?"  "At least, did I get a chance to turn the knob?"

    While unpacking a carton of momentos, the long lost answer to my question was answered in the form of two Eastern Airline Ticket stubs. (anyone here remember Eastern Airlines?). They were one way ticket stubs...from NY to Miami. My mind flew back.  

 We were newlywed...living and working in NYC.  Two young adults, trying to take on a world , make a place for ourselves. Everything seemed difficult. We worked extremely hard and the only thing we seemed to do was get on each others tense nerves.  One day, an offer came from a company based in Miami, we flew down on weekend for an interview and to scope out the town.   The warm tropical air, scented with suntan lotion, the sound of Jimmy Buffet music and soft jazz playing everywhere, the casual easy going manner of a sleepy town, Pina Coladas and iced Coronas being served everywhere..... it seemd like the perfect ticket out!  We returned back to NYC, gave notice to our bosses, landlord and packed up our tiny apt.

  All I could think about during the time we were packing up, was being able to get out of the "rat race". The warm climate, the soothing aromas of beach and warm breezes, being chilled with the sweet succulence of a frozen rum drink......one would cerainly lose their inhibitions easily!  Life was going to be easy. My wife would be relaxed. The door to pleasure would swing open, easy and often! Yes...I was giving up my business attire to become....An Apeman!  My wife, was to be my Aperess! We were to swing in this new jungle without a worry , indulging ourselves in what this balmy and enchanted town had to offer!

    Eastern Airlines brought us in....and the moment we landed, the sky burst with one of the worst rainstorms in the citys' history!  Our car (which we shipped down from NY) was waiting for us....had no A/C....after driving for 20 minutes, the steam forming on the windshield was from the 92 degree heat & 100% humidity!  During the next few days, we had to deal  with our belongings being lost....the frzziness of my wifes hair, the car overheated three times and we discovered that Miami had cockroaches (called Palmetto bugs) as big as any thumb! My wife began missing her family, we overdosed on Cuban Coffee (espresso), and no one spoke English!

   My romantic moves were soon dusted away..."Sorry honey, between  this heat and the croacking of the frogs, who can get in the mood!"  

   You can bring the aperess into the jungle, but you can't make her swing in it.

At twenty something.. I hoped to take a step back in time, an easier life....I opened the door that said "Apeman"..  Now, here I am, many years later, saying.."thank You Bill Gates and Steve Jobs for inventing the internet and the PC".....While I was trying to rendevous with the primitive spirit within, you guys were up to something more productive!   Aw..heck...who am I kidding....if I had invented the PC..you guys would be typing with a set of sticks and bones!

My Leopard skin tunic hangs nearby.........

  

   

The Babys Room

 Twenty Four years and two months......and the time came last week to bid  a fond farewell to our home. I walked down the halls of a completely vacant home and it felt so strange to be saying "goodbye".  I stopped in each room to muse upon a memory, smiling to myself, "if these walls could talk!"  My last stop was in, what I have called, the babys room. Now a baby has not been in this room for a long, long time, but this is where each of my 3 sons spent their first years, as they were born into this house. In this room, were some very tender moments, and  this is where I embraced one lifes most powerful lessons....as I close the door..allow me to share............    The Babys Room........

    Being the father of 3 boys, I can still recall their infant cries in the middle of night. Half awake, I would stumble down the hall and retrieve them from their crib.

    By the time my third son came along, I had the 3 A.M. drill down to a routine. Then, on one such night, I awoke, but there was no cry coming from his room. "Any moment now" I murmered to myself. Minutes passed, still no cry. "Is he alright?" I asked myself....as anxiety began to pour in. I waited a few minutes more, til my nervous imagination got the better part of me, and I moved quickly down the hall to his room.

    With my heartbeat racing, I aproached the crib, leaned over and observed.  I gently lifted him up and held his tiny face to my mouth..there they were..the tinest but sweetest breaths one could possibly imagine! As I held my precious son to my chest, I could not help but wonder about our Creator. Why doesn't he come to our cries in the middle of the night? What could possibly be preventing him from wanting to pick us up and hold us close? How could he resist such a pleasure in comforting us?

    I cannot speak for our Creator, but on that night I did realize that he has selected a wonderful nursemaid to attend to us. This nursemaid is is at our sides at all times, and never fails to pick us up during our darkest moments. The nursemaid that our Creator has selected is called HOPE.

   As my boys grew, I observed them carefully. Whether catching butterflies, baseballs or a fish. Whether they were blowing out candles on a birthday cake,loving their pets, or studying for a test, I have seen their nursemaid,HOPE, standing in their shadows, bringing their dreams a little closer to them!

    Now I know, when I step outside at night, and gaze into the night sky, musing upon the stars and moon, their beauty and precision.....that little spark of eternal energy that runs through my nerves, is merely a confirmation that my nuresemaid, HOPE is standing nearby!

  Peace and Blessings.....Marc :)

 

Why not ask for MORE!

    A few years ago, the receptionist brought a magazine to work called "MORE". It was the premier issue. The magazine is geared to women in their forties. Most of the modeling in the magazine is done by women in their "mature" stage of life. The articles also are concerned with issues that women in their forties and beyond are challanged with.

   I was fanning the pages when one ad caught my eye (and heart!) A sensational looking, darling woman in a fly fishing outfit! I must confess that her stunning panoramic smile and blond curls flowing from her "fly fishing cap" were far too provocative for me. I got lost in her smile! I immediately cut the page out..."this is unbelievable" I uttered. "I have fished from coast to coast, on hundreds of piers,miles of streams and sandy beaches and I have never come across a woman with a fishing rod who is as magnificant as this!  Suddenly, I felt alone....denied one of lifes sweetest fruits! "No More!" I exclaimed!

    I handed the recptionsit the page that I had torn out (which had no ad copy written on it) and asked her if she would write the following with her feminine  penmanship.

Hi Marc!   Looks like we are having trout almondine for dinner. The wine is chilling....the table only needs your company!

   The dragonfly lure that you bought me for our anniversary works just great!...You are so smart!!

   See ya later sweetie!   <3 Alexis <3

P.S.  No peeking in the Victoria Secret bag!  You'll just have to wait!!

I took the picture to my desk and quickly slipped it into a picture frame and placed it dead center on my desk!   Where it remains to this day.

.......I have since learned that this "fly fishing beauty"  is a former model for Estee Lauder in the early 70's......She made her fame and fortune and then walked away from it....moving to upstate NY where she opened a fly fishing school!!!!!!! her name is Karen Graham..she is real.   

I heard a beggar call from his crutch...why..why ask for so much?

A woman called from her darkened door..why?..why not ask for more?

Like a bird, on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir

I have tried in my way to be free....Leonard Cohen

..One is never free from the beauty that warms their heart!....In that case....ask for More!

     Marc :)

 

 

Confessions Of A Tightrope Walker

"HEY LOOK UP!........I'M UP HERE!!.....LOOK , I"M UP HERE ON THE HIGHWIRE!!"

    We are all tightrope walkers! Afterall we have just one heart that has the amazing job of balancing all of our emotions! Imagine.....the same heart that can full of Joy, can also be deflated by Sadness....the same heart that can be so Bold with Courage, can also shrivel in Fear......the same heart that  falls in Love, can be filled with Hate.  YIKES!  What a balancing act that is! One heart and so many emotions running counter to each other! It is no wonder that so many of us fall off this highwire! 

Well, there is no shame in falling off....its just a tragedy if you don't get back up!

 Now as for me, I've been doing a pretty good job staying up here..and no, its not intellect that will keep you on this fine line....while it is intellect that will provide you with the knowledge how to maintain balance, it is Faith that provides the Will to stay up here!   Intellect always will tell us what is possible, Faith will tell us, everything is possible if you believe in yourself!  Faith defies intellect all the time!

I hope and pray there's a whole lot Faith being communed to the parts of this world that have been given a reason to stop believing.

   Safe and peaceful journies......    Marc :)

Garage Sale...Used Heart .25 Cents

    Time and proximity influence the attention we can give to an event. For example, a car crash that takes place on your street corner will certainly have  you focus more attention on it than another accident that has occured 30 miles away. Or, if your child becomes ill, it certainly will grab more of your attention than  if a friend of yours who lives 500 miles away with a child that is ill. The heartache you have today, supecedes the the heartache you had 5 years ago.  Time and proximity, the closer the event is to our eyes, the greater its intensity we feel...its only natural.

   So, on this solemn anniversary of  Sept. 11, I beg your pardon for being short on worthy words on a horrific event in our history which affects each one of us. My attention has been diverted by the sale of my home of 24 years. Yes, I know, I am most fortunate to be able to have sold it and not lost it in a flood...we need not experience the very worst of others to feel the loss.......

   With two weeks remaining before we move, today was the day..the garage sale! Garage sales are not meant for the sentimental, or  the morally sensitive.... The fishing rod that I sold for 2 bucks was worth far greater than that amount in sentimental value. The many days that my boys and I woke before the sun, with a certain eagerness, drove to a pier and baited our lines. The thrills of the catch, the easy moments of time spent alone. I could see all of that as the man walked triumphantly away with his new purchase.

....and so the day went, article after article being carted off, desks where homework assignments labored over...beds, where they slept, tables, where meals were eaten, games where laughter was shared....

   My sons came home to help with the sale, they were happy to see their items being passed along into others hands...and they did an outstanding job of loading beds in the back of vans, and assisting those who needed a hand.

  I know..life is about moving on and its wrong not to allow time do to its job of erasing and softing the impact ...... and so, I release my grasp on this hour hand and let it loose...let time tick quickly...as it will bring  me further from this aching heart!.....Unfortunately, for the survivors of 9/11 and Katrina, time does not move fast enough......

  A new day begins soon!  Godspeed and Peace to all~~~~Marc :)