Clothing need not ever be optional.

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Daily writing prompt
Who are your favorite people to be around?
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For reasons that are still being divined, just having people around me tends to run on the low side. Very low. Qualify that aggregation with “favorite” and that quantity begins to fall away even more.

Perhaps it just took me a while to figure out this most crucial aspect of living. A long while. Like until my mid sixties. But favorites? Yes. I have mine. While I won’t offer any names at this point, I will share what makes them so.

And it brings a smile to this German puss to be able to say that number is growing. Not by any means in leaps and bounds. More like baby steps. About the same gait as my new grandson. But progress all the same. By the time he hits two, I will be swimming in fav’s.

Being encased in my stoic exterior 24/7/365 can appear scary from the exterior I am told. But those with the veneer penetrating gaze and a “who gives a flip I am trying anyways” attitude find it unintimidating to actually get me to smile. I love to engage with others in a genuinely open, and of late, more honest and vulnerable fashion. Far deeper than the weather, dad jokes or work and working out stories.

I want to share truths and deceits, affirmations and abandonments, aspirations and the abyss, lonlieness and love, fear and faith.

Because of this, a gathering of this nature tends to be very minute. But moments with them provide a magnitude of joy rarely known in these parts. That too is changing. And makes me want to be more diligent in offering a smile and as many words I can muster.

My best friend and I have a term we use to describe this kind of vulnerable openess.

We refer to this as being totally naked.

Exposing everything there is about you to another and having them return the favor by doing the same.

In these circumstances, nothing is ever questioned, judged, diminished, shamed or regarded as a flaw. It just is.

One will be speaking their truth. The other one will be truly listening. And when that time comes and the roles begin to reverse, nothing ever changes. It can all come out. It is all received.

Anyone willing to be naked with me in this fashion are by far my favorite people to be around. And always will be.

Clothing need not ever be optional.

In the best field ever.

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Daily writing prompt
Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you.
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There are three in all honesty.

Back in the day, I wore low cut, screw on, imported kangaroo hide cleats. Very soft. Cannot recall the make to be honest. Maybe Adidas? Wearing them, I was blessed to play in one of the oldest highschool football rivalries in Illinois, dating back to the 40’s, for the Old Oaken Bucket. No, I wasn’t playing in the 40’s. Sure feels like it now though.

Then onto college ball. These size 12’s may have even been my carry overs from high school. They felt like gloves on the tootsies. I wore them far beyond their shelf life. Copious amounts of tape had to be applied as they neared retirement. Huh. Sounds familiar.

This trot to the line of scrimmage was on a Saturday afternoon in what was then called the Knox Bowl, in Galesburg. It was an offensive series during our upset win over Monmouth to regain the vaunted Bronze Turkey. A battle regarded as one of the oldest college football rivalries west of the Alleghenies. Perfect timing for Thanksgiving break.

Here they are one last time before the start of my final season playing, ever, in 1980.

Then as life moved on, and kids came into my life, I had the opportunity to coach them all in soccer, baseball, softball and football. I stayed in my field after coaching my sons and have been there ever since. Youth, highschool, a year of college, then back to high school. As you can tell, a little more support was needed to keep this old horse moving.

And now that my days wearing my low cut, screw on, imported kangaroo hide cleats have caught up to me, my field shoes these days are more of the low cut, slide on, fabric of the day, extra cushy variety.

My field has grown since those days as a Red Devil and Siwash.

I still manage to put on the whistle for the best three months of the year, now in Jackson.

But I also coach those with diverse abilities in an effort to find their field of life too.

No whistle needed there.

Just lots of patience.

Love.

And hugs.

In the best field ever.

It does.

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Share one of the best gifts you’ve ever received.
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Now that the day is closing down, there are a few more from the 18th to share. Not so much anything specific. Just the sense.

There are times when things happen – but not right, misunderstandings occur, plans disintegrate, work goes for naught, you don’t like where you’re at, ad infinitum. Trying moments for sure. Designated to test, elicit a response and create an outcome.

Had some of those the 16th, into the 17th and then on into today. Frustrating to say the least. Not in the best position to be tested. Wasn’t part of my plan. The mettle was deficient. But I stayed put. And even though I hadn’t studied, I took them.

Not so much by answering the challenges they posed, by trying something different, planning in and all around it, trying to figure the root cause or engaging in some form of life’s trials dissection.

No, this time, I just stayed put. In the moment. And let things happen.

Time moved. But I tempered the usual frenzy within and staid still.

I sensed movement. More time was allowed to pass.

I remained still. Quiet. Things changed a little more. Stress lessened.

More time? Issues dissipated. Mood altered. New outlook.

Still more time?

Whoa.. Where am I? How did this happen?

Wait!

This is great!

So much to be learned from simply letting go.

And letting life’s best partner take care of things.

It all started with the gift of today.

And just when you think it cannot get better?

It does.

Love.

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Daily writing prompt
Are you patriotic? What does being patriotic mean to you?
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In today’s climes, this is quite the topic. It gets bantied about like no body’s business. It has a more sacred meaning to me. That being said, what follows will truly be shocking to those that have come to know how this football noggin works. I went a little deeper to find the origins of the word.

Turns out, it’s Greek to me. Well, Greek to all. But I digress…

The root Patēr (πατήρ), meaning “father is from where it stems. Then, becoming patrios, meaning “of one’s father,”  followed by patriot (πατριώτης), meaning “from the same country” or “fellow countryman”.

Now there are fathers and there is a Father. It only stands to reason then there are fatherlands and a Fatherland. My perspective regarding things have been the subject reflection and change of late. And if you look at things the way I have been, we are all of one Father. Hence, then we are all born out of the same Fatherland.

This means that we are all from the same country and are fellow country men. And women. It is just that the corresponding topography is immense, far and ever so wide. Commutes may require planes, trains, automobiles, or even ships. Thank goodness for Apple Translate. Talk about gerrymandering. Sheesh.

A patriot, then is meant to support, serve and defend our country men and women. Primarily through sacrifice, selflessness, respect and above all love. That is how our Father would want us to serve our fellow countrymen and women. Through out the Fatherland.

You will notice there is no mention of ego in how I choose to regard this subject. That is because it isn’t needed to support, serve and defend our country men and women. All that is required is sacrifice, selflessness, respect and above all love.

The type given to us by our Father.

Throughout all of the Fatherland.

Love.