“All you southern hicks are always just looking for a way to get off work.” The young man tried to explain that he was not feinting an injury he truly had injured himself at his work station. “How long you gonna work here? You gonna get yourself a good paycheck or two and then split like they all do?”
Johnny Cash–The Life–Robert Hilburn
This was a company doctor’s statement at a place where Cash first worked in Detroit after leaving home in Arkansas.
When recently reading this book on the life of Cash I was made to think of something that happened in my past. It was the fall of 1960 and I was a few weeks into my freshman year in college. Back then after a few weeks of one’s freshman year the school would send out what they called mid-term grades. Generally these grades were sent to the student’s parents giving them some idea of how their son or daughter was doing.
The day I received my mid-term grades I was called to my counselors office. “What in the world are you doing here? Look at these grades. You aren’t even going to your classes. Your cutting classes. You are doing nothing but wasting your parents money. You are here having one big party you better wake up.” This (along with a bit more) was said to me as I sat in my counselors office.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. First of all I was not missing classes. I had not missed a class. (Side note: in four years of college I only missed one class and that was to go watch a friend play a college baseball game.) Secondly, I was not wasting my parents money. I was working nearly full-time and paying my own way. Also, I was living at home and was living anything but the “college good life.” True my grades were not anything to hang on the kitchen refrigerator but this was not an easy time for me–in a lot of ways and but for sure…. I was not goofing off.
I sat in the man’s office listening to him too timid to say much in return. Also, it was readily apparent he was not interested in anything I had to say. He would just make his blanket assumptions and then dismiss another young freshman kid. He ask no questions and gave no opportunity for explanations.
Generalization–“Your all the same”—“Then split like they all do”–blanket statements–assuming all the same—most times is not right or fair to the person or persons in which they are being said about.
One of the best pieces of advice I was given shortly into my first year of teaching and coaching was given to me by an old gentleman teacher/ coach.
“Larry, before you say or do something to or with another person…especially kids…you might ask them some questions.”
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May 25, 2017
Keep on,
Larry Adamson
Archives for June 2017
CRITICS CHOICE
The marque would often read: “Critics Choice.”
My family and I lived for almost twenty-four years in New Jersey, we lived about thirty miles west of New York City. Often we would go into the city to see a play. Most every time on the marque of the theater of the play we were going to see would be those words: “Critics Choice.”
Then and still today when I hear the word critics I smile. Critics choice, for me they often leave a lot to be desired.
Can you imagine that upon your death you were the best selling author in the country. In nine of ten years from 1915 to 1924 you had a new novel that was among the top ten best-selling novels for the entire year. At the time of your death sales of your books had exceeded seventeen million. A press release at this time said of you, “In sales he is exceeded only by the Bible and the Boy Scout Handbook.” Pretty strong credentials one would think.
Yet in his obituary the new New York Times wrote—now get this—:
“His art is archaic, with all the traits of archaic art. His style has the stiffness that comes from an imperfect mastery of the medium. It lacks fluency or facility; behind it always we feel a pressure toward expression, a striving for a freer and easier utterance.”
Zane Grey–Thomas H. Pauly
Another widely acclaimed literary critic Saturday Review:
“It is difficult to imagine any writer having less merit in either style or substance than (author named) and still maintaining an audience at all.” Well now those are very flattering words, you think?
You have to smile, hey people he has sold over 17,000,000 books, somebody is reading his works.
Both critics were writing about Zane Grey–January 31, 1872-October 23, 1939.
And yet often still today the so-called media/critics don’t get it…that much of the time the public is not where they are. And for the most part does not want to be. Critics they are not listening, you are not relativity in the lives of millions of folks. Again seventeen million though so in this case.
Frank Sinatra once was ask who he thought was the best critic. His answer: “You the reader, the listener.” You.
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May 10, 2017
Keep on,
Larry Adamson
SEMANTICS
I find it amusing, but even more concerning, as we continue to see more and more the definition of words change by those who choose to do such.
Recently a prompted NASCAR race driver won a race only to be found in violation of the rules of the governing body of that competition. A follow-up inspection revealed an illegal suspension for his car. His team was penalized 25 points, fined $50,000 and his crew chief suspended for two up coming races.
When asked about it his reply:
“I think what happened was something that’s very, very small. What we got in trouble for was something that really didn’t make our car faster. It wasn’t like a big thing, the rule is written in black and white. We pushed a little too far. We’ll pay the penalty and move on.
Don’t you like the young driver’s use of his word “push.” “We pushed a little too far.”
Let’s see—-in a check of the dictionary the word push: ” A vigorous effort to obtain something by moving forward from.”
How about the word “broke.” “To infringe, ignore or act contrary to a law or a rule.”
I think more and more we are living in a society that choose to describe its actions in a way other than what words once described.
“Naw naw…I didn’t break any rules I just step on the gas, “pushed” it a bit further and now you guys are wanting to describe or say I did something I didn’t do. How terrible of you. to think differently of me.”
But hey some of my good friends tell me that one of the smartest presidents we ever had, well remember he once told us or gave us a new definition of what sex was and wasn’t. So why should I be surprised when a twenty some year old race driver kid wants to tell me, his fellow competitors and the governing body of his sport, “hey I only pushed the rules.”
What the young man did, his race team, years ago…it would have been called —now here’s a word for you…..”Cheating.” But now no/ no its only….”Pushing.”
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May 5, 2017
Keep on,
Larry Adamso
FROM THE LETTER
“From our first babbling’s to our last words, we make but one statement, and that is our life.”
“It is folly of our species that we reserve the greatest bouquets for our dead.”
“It is a peculiar domain the mind enters when one is asleep. Why it chooses one landscape over another, or horror over joy, is the most baffling of mysteries.”
“There is no more constant companion that the specter of regrets.”
“A broken heart is always looking for a mend.”
The Letter—Richard Paul Evans
Early morning reading or late night thinking can make one pause over a bit of coffee.
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April 28, 2017
Keep on,
Larry Adamson
I QUESTION THE MAN’S METHODS
While I would not question the man’s intention, I would question his methods.
The weather here in Nashville this fall has been beautiful. Today found me in my old corvette, top down, with some Slim Harpo music playing. With the exception of my friend, Cohort, there is not a one of you who knows who Slim Harpo was.
As I pulled up to a stop light in Nashville there was a car on my left with his windows down, and to the left of his car was a homeless man. No description needed, you get the picture. As we came to a stop the homeless man approached the driver in the car to my left. “Would you have a little change for a fella to get something to eat?” The driver did not respond immediately. I watched as he then reached into his glove box and took out a small book that I recognized to be a pocket size New Testament Bible. He handed the book to the homeless man and I heard him say, “Here, read this book; it will help you get off the streets.” He didn’t say these words in an arrogant way, nor was his voice disrespectful. Yet, personally, I was dumbfounded. What can I say?
The light changed and I watched as the driver pulled away. Now, don’t misread me here, I think the book is a fine book, more than fine, and I certainly believe it should be read. But I think I would have chosen a different approach to the man’s question. If you are trying to feed one’s “soul,” you also might take a bit of interest in one’s “stomach” first.
I’m pretty much of the opinion that before we think we have answers, we might first ask questions. Once again.I would not question the gift, .just the method in giving.
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October 23, 2010
Keep on
Larry Adamson
KOREA, A FORGOTTEN WAR
You’ll look proud, but I’ll look prouder
Tonight we’re settin’ the woods on fire.”
The first time I heard that song was with my mom, dad and another couple, as we had gone out to eat. I was eight years old at the time. Going out to eat was something my family seldom did. It was Saturday night, and we were eating at Bert and Finn’s Truck Stop just a bit north of Shelburn, Indiana. You can see my family had fancy dining habits if and when we ate out. Yes, Bert and Finn’s Truck Stop.
I remember that song being played constantly on the jukebox. My mom made some comment about it and the man from the other couple commented on how a number of folks must like the song because it was number one last week on the TV show Your Hit Parade. Now you surely don’t remember that show; Snooky Lanson, Gisele MacKenzie and Dorothy Collins. With the Russell Arms orchestra.
But what I most remember about that evening was not the evening of dining out, but what had taken place earlier. On that day, my older brother, Daren, seventeen years old, had left the train station in Terre Haute, going to Lackland Air Force Base in Texas, to begin his basic training. The other couple also had put their son, Dean, on that same train headed to the same location. It was the time of the Korean War. I call that war the forgotten war. Sadly, too many do not remember that time or the cost of lives.
Now, as an adult I realize going out to eat was not the main reason for us being together that evening. I think two families wanted company, wanted to be together in like situations. I was a young child at the time, and when I think back to that day, I think it was the first time in my life I cried. I mean really cried over something that hurt, other than bumps and bruises.
I look at my grandchildren today and wonder what it is they will cry over? That day, two couples were wanting support and to share in their sadness.
“Pity the man who falls and has no one to pick him up.”
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August 28, 2012
Keep on,
Larry Adamson
CAN THIS BE EXPLAINED–LOGICALLY?
Today I was at my local post office. No problem with the local folks. My mail is delivered each day just fine. I was there to leave a “no delivery” notice as my wife and I would be gone for an extended time.
As I waited in line (again no problem) to hand my information to one of five clerks who were working I began to take note of my surrounds. Hum…let’s see. I began to ask myself “am I at the post office or in a retail store?”
Hanging on the wall, and for sale, I noticed stationary, wrapping paper, stuffed animals (little bears were cute), a large assortment of cards. You know the kind you buy at a card shop. Greeting cards. Had some for graduation, get well, anniversary, congratulations and on. Also, noticed they had watches for sale. Yes, wrist watches. I got a great idea for them regarding watches. How about a “postal man watch.” You could have the hands of the watch like the legs and feet of a walking mailman. Boy, I bet those things would fly out the place.They had CD’s, music cd’s for sale. How about Sinatra’s greatest hit. All this stuff right there ready for me to make a purchase.
Now folks I am not kidding you. Wallets. You want a wallet? How about gift cards. Surely one would think this is the ideal place to come and get your gift cards. You got a birthday, graduation, wedding coming up, come on down to the post office and get your gift cards. Gift cards for say E-bay, Red Lobster, Subway. How about Pro Bass store. Yes, they got’em. I quit counting after I counted forty such business. Oh, I-Tunes gift cards. Bring the kids on down and buy them there.
Last year the post service lost 5.6 billion dollars. No that is not a typo. It is a “B.” Previous years the loss has been as high as 15.9 billion. Can someone explain to me–logically–why the United States Postal Service is in the retail business?
I have often stopped at Subway and grabbed a sandwich, I don’t think they are selling stamps along with their ham and cheese. Maybe when one goes to buy the latest fishing gear at Pro Bass they should ask for a book of Elvis stamps.
Now I am not picking on the postal service. Three of my closes relatives work there everyday. But I think they would also agree with me, why? Why is the government, the postal service in the retail business.
Now get this. The latest. I have been told the postal service is about to introduce a new and added feature to their services. Patrons (nice word for those who get mail) can sign up and the postal service will now send you a daily email. That email will show the mail you are going to receive that day and the time of delivery. Boy have I waited a lifetime for that.
Wonder how much that service will now cost the taxpayers. Wonder how long that took government programmers to figure that one out? Wonder how many seminars that took to plan that program.
I doubt that ole’ Ben Franklin had all this in mind when the post office began.
Is there any wonder why folks have such low confidence and often wonder what their government is doing.
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May 26, 2017
Keep on,
Larry Adamson
NEVER GROW OLD
LA
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Just some thoughts:
Can you imagine?
Sitting here tonight late in my office I’m playin’ a CD from two of my favorite people Rodeo and Juliet…(Chris and Jan Harris). Do yourself a favor if you like some of the older hymns get a copy of their CD “The Adventures of Rodeo and Juliet” and listen to a couple of the old songs.
“Never Grow Old”
I have heard of a land/ On the faraway stand
‘Tis a beautiful home of the soul/ Built by Jesus on high
There we never shall die/ ‘Tis the land where we’ll never grow old
Never grow old/ Never grow old
In the land where we’ll never grow old
Never grow old, never grow old
In the land where we’ll never grow old
In that beautiful home/ Where we’ll never more roam
We shall be in the sweet by and by
Happy praise to the King/ Through eternity sing
‘Tis a land where we never shall die
When our work here is done/ And the life’s crown is won
And our troubles and trials are o’er
All our sorrows will end/And our voices will blend
With the loved ones who’ve gone on before
Never grow old, never grow old
In the land where we’ll never grow old
Never grow old, never grow old
In the land where we’ll never grow old
Some time ago in Morristown, New Jersey I was invited to speak one Sunday morning at an all black church. Just prior to my stepping into the pulpit that morning the folks had sung this song. Sang every verse and even repeated a few. They sang it with feeling and emotion I had not often seen. I spoke for about thirty minutes. Following the services the minister said to me….”Young man (get that young man) you are certainly welcome to come back and speak again to us folks. And you can speak much longer if you like. You sees’ our folks here have some tough days and we take a bit longer to ponder our thoughts and hurts before goins’ home.”
In 1914 a young seminary student studying at Mercer college in Georgia had gone home to see his parents. On that morning he was ask to speak at his home church. For year his father had lead the singing for this congregation. That morning as the young man’s father lead the congregations in their singing the young man was made aware of his father’s failing health. The matter of his father’s aging was never more apparent to him. He was growing old. His step was slow and his voice faint. The following week the young man, James Moore, as he returned to school and with that Sunday still fresh in his memory he wrote this song. It was not published until 1930.
You might think a minute about the significance of that year, 1930. Some times when we hear a song especially a hymn it would be good for us to think about when it was written and what folks might be experiencing at that time.That was a period of hard times and great difficulties for many in our country. It was a time in what we have come to call “The great depression.” You can imagine the significance of these words to a church full of people at this time.
Better times are a comin’. There is a time “when we will never grow old.”
Sometimes if one pays attention one can understand why folks are singing what they are singing…
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June 21, 2017
Keep on,
Larry Adamson
MORRIE
Excerpts from Tuesdays with Morrie:
(Morrie Schwartz)
with me in close, intimate ways. And love is how you stay alive, even
after you are gone. Yes, love is how you stay alive.”
(Morrie)
(Morrie)
“It won’t be the same not being able to hear you talk.”
(Mitch)
“Tell you what, after I’m dead, you talk, and I’ll listen.”
(Morrie)
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May 12, 2009
Keep on,
Larry Adamson
FATHER’S DAY
I cannot speak for all of you who might read this regarding your father. A few I can and I know some of you, like me, were very fortunate.
My adopted father died in 1975 and my adopted mother in 1999. Shortly after her passing we were going through some old boxes belonging to my mother. You know the kind, the old shoe boxes on the top shelf of the closet, or that old trunk in the attic. I found her high school autograph book in one of the boxes.
Some of you might remember those, a book in which classmates and various friends wrote notes or small sayings, a remembrance item. I had never seen this book before so I sat down and started turning the pages and reading each entry. On the very last page of her book I found something my dad had written to my mother. It was dated Sullivan, Indiana, April 14, 1929. At that time my Dad would have been eighteen years old and my mother sixteen. Perhaps they were just beginning to date or, at least, seemed to be good friends.
Dear Sylvia:
In your chain of friendships, remember me as your strongest link.
John H. Adamson
Well, not only for her, but certainly for me, his life and influence were exactly that… the strongest link.
I hope on this Father’s Day you have some similar good memories to recall of your dad. I hope he was a strong link in your chain of life.
