Is Marcus MIA?

Nah, but if you don't hear from me for a few days, there's good reason! Headed to Austin, TX tomorrow for a few days with friends and fam, then flying up to The Big Apple! If I'm incommunicato, there's plenty of stories that'll fill the blog in the not-so-distant future!

I'd Rather Hang An Innocent Man

Today, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down a ruling on capital punishment. Whether you agree or disagree with the Justices, the issue of capital punishment remains one of the most heated arguments of our time.

Last night, I got into a discussion with an elderly man about capital punishment. This man is a whole lot mmore dogmatic than I, but even so, I listened to him because, well, information is never a bad thing.

This gentleman said, "My father always said he'd rather be hung as an innocent man than as a guilty man."

I wholeheartedly agreed! If I am innocent and I'm put to death, the only thing I really care about is my personal integrity. If the state decides to execute me and I'm innocent, well, that's a tiny, tiny chink in the armor of the best system on earth (and yes, don't even argue that America's system of laws and law enforcement isn't the best on earth) To me, all I want to know in this world is that I did what I think is right. I don't stray from that for anything. It's a personal thing-I can't live with myself if I feel I'm living out of integrity. So, yes, I'd rather be hung as an innocent man with the knowledge I didn't do anything wrong, rather than be hung as a guilty man knowing I DID do something wrong.

Thing is, that's totally NOT the direction this guy was going!

His father meant he was happy to sacrafice his personal life if it meant America was still using the system of capital punishment. So, provided America always uses it's ability to kill it's own citizens, this man was happy to die and insure that right. Beg pardon? I'm not sure this really makes sense!

I'm not going to comment on the right or wrong of this argument, but in my mistaken translation of what he was talking about, it put another reinforcement into my own personal idea of integrity.

And yes, due to the fact I loathe myself if I did wrong, I'd rather be put to death as an innocent man.

For me, this just drives home the point Bill Shakespeare made a half millinieum ago:

To thine own self be true.

The Wrong Thing For The Right Reason

Have you ever done the wrong thing for the right reason? I sure have.

A few weeks ago, I was reading “Shantaram” by Gregory David Roberts. One of the recurring themes was that of doing the wrong thing for the right reason. In the book, the main character’s mentor was a Muslim who was fighting a holy war. He (the mentor) ended up manipulating the main character to assist him in his holy war. Of course, every person of any religious faith believes they’re doing the right thing. Duh! Why else would they do something religious-based?

For a Muslim like the one in question, a holy war is the right thing to do. Yet, even the mentor knew manipulating the main character was wrong. The wrong thing for the right reason.

When working with a guide dog, Carson and I are often under close observation. Same goes for most any dog and handler. It seems people see Carson doing his job, think, “Wow! What a well trained dog!” and that’s all the further they go. Let’s never, EVER forget that a dog is a dog. Even a well trained dog will make mistakes. Just like people-even someone as brilliant as, oh, Stephen Hawking, will make mistakes. Yet, if observers see Carson misjudge a curb or cut a corner a little too short, people may immediately think, “Oh, that dog isn’t very good!”

Of course Carson is going to make mistakes! He’s human! Or close to it, at least!

And when a dog makes a mistake, there is a certain protocol to follow: correct the dog as quickly as possible so he/she can learn.

A few weeks ago, I thought Carson had flubbed up on navigating a dining facility. We stopped, I corrected him and continued on. About five seconds after I corrected him with a punitive word and a quick pop of the leash, I realized I’d corrected him…and he hadn’t done anything wrong. I corrected him in the proper way, but for a crime I only –thought- he was guilty of. The wrong thing for the right reason (and don’t worry, Carson forgave me!)

We’re all going to be guilty of doing the wrong thing for the right reason….sometime. When this happens, we need to have a little more grace with ourselves. When, however, someone does the wrong thing for the wrong reason, THAT is the time when a closer eye should be affixed. Grace when it’s a mistake, change when it’s an intentional wrong. Easy as that.

George Carlin

Wow, folks, after just quoting George Carlin in yesterday's blog, I was shocked to wake up to the news that he's dead. Creepy.

He'll be missed. Love him or hate his irreverant humor, Carlin simply made sense - something that is sorely lacking in many of today's comics and social commentators.

*****

Legendary Comedian George Carlin Dies
AP
Posted: 2008-06-23 08:25:32
Filed Under: Movie News, TV News
LOS ANGELES (June 23) - George Carlin, the frenzied performer whose routine "Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television" led to a key Supreme Court ruling on obscenity, has died.

Carlin, who had a history of heart trouble, went into St. John's Health Center in Santa Monica on Sunday afternoon complaining of chest pain and died later that evening, said his publicist, Jeff Abraham. He had performed as recently as last weekend at the Orleans Casino and Hotel in Las Vegas. He was 71.

"He was a genius and I will miss him dearly," Jack Burns, who was the other half of a comedy duo with Carlin in the early 1960s, told The Associated Press.Carlin's jokes constantly breached the accepted boundaries of comedy and language, particularly with his routine on the "Seven Words" - all of which are taboo on broadcast TV and radio to this day. When he uttered all seven at a show in Milwaukee in 1972, he was arrested on charges of disturbing the peace, freed on $150 bail and exonerated when a Wisconsin judge dismissed the case, saying it was indecent but citing free speech and the lack of any disturbance.

When the words were later played on a New York radio station, they resulted in a 1978 Supreme Court ruling upholding the government's authority to sanction stations for broadcasting offensive language during hours when children might be listening. "So my name is a footnote in American legal history, which I'm perversely kind of proud of," he told The Associated Press earlier this year.

Despite his reputation as unapologetically irreverent, Carlin was a television staple through the decades, serving as host of the "Saturday Night Live" debut in 1975 - noting on his Web site that he was "loaded on cocaine all week long" - and appearing some 130 times on "The Tonight Show." He produced 23 comedy albums, 14 HBO specials, three books, a couple of TV shows and appeared in several movies, from his own comedy specials to "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" in 1989 - a testament to his range from cerebral satire and cultural commentary to downright silliness (and sometimes hitting all points in one stroke).

"Why do they lock gas station bathrooms?" he once mused. "Are they afraid someone will clean them?"

He won four Grammy Awards, each for best spoken comedy album, and was nominated for five Emmy awards. On Tuesday, it was announced that Carlin was being awarded the 11th annual Mark Twain Prize for American Humor, which will be presented Nov. 10 in Washington and broadcast on PBS.Carlin started his career on the traditional nightclub circuit in a coat and tie, pairing with Burns to spoof TV game shows, news and movies. Perhaps in spite of the outlaw soul, "George was fairly conservative when I met him," said Burns, describing himself as the more left-leaning of the two. It was a degree of separation that would reverse when they came upon Lenny Bruce, the original shock comic, in the early '60s. "We were working in Chicago, and we went to see Lenny, and we were both blown away," Burns said, recalling the moment as the beginning of the end for their collaboration if not their close friendship. "It was an epiphany for George. The comedy we were doing at the time wasn't exactly groundbreaking, and George knew then that he wanted to go in a different direction."

That direction would make Carlin as much a social commentator and philosopher as comedian, a position he would relish through the years. "The whole problem with this idea of obscenity and indecency, and all of these things - bad language and whatever - it's all caused by one basic thing, and that is: religious superstition," Carlin told the AP in a 2004 interview. "There's an idea that the human body is somehow evil and bad and there are parts of it that are especially evil and bad, and we should be ashamed. Fear, guilt and shame are built into the attitude toward sex and the body. It's reflected in these prohibitions and these taboos that we have."

Carlin was born on May 12, 1937, and grew up in the Morningside Heights section of Manhattan, raised by a single mother. After dropping out of high school in the ninth grade, he joined the Air Force in 1954. He received three court-martials and numerous disciplinary punishments, according to his official Web site. While in the Air Force he started working as an off-base disc jockey at a radio station in Shreveport, La., and after receiving a general discharge in 1957, took an announcing job at WEZE in Boston.

"Fired after three months for driving mobile news van to New York to buy pot," his Web site says.From there he went on to a job on the night shift as a deejay at a radio station in Fort Worth, Texas. Carlin also worked variety of temporary jobs including a carnival organist and a marketing director for a peanut brittle.

In 1960, he left with Burns, a Texas radio buddy, for Hollywood to pursue a nightclub career as comedy team Burns & Carlin. He left with $300, but his first break came just months later when the duo appeared on Jack Paar's "Tonight Show."Carlin said he hoped to emulate his childhood hero, Danny Kaye, the kindly, rubber-faced comedian who ruled over the decade Carlin grew up in - the 1950s - with a clever but gentle humor reflective of the times.It didn't work for him, and the pair broke up by 1962.

"I was doing superficial comedy entertaining people who didn't really care: Businessmen, people in nightclubs, conservative people. And I had been doing that for the better part of 10 years when it finally dawned on me that I was in the wrong place doing the wrong things for the wrong people," Carlin reflected recently as he prepared for his 14th HBO special, "It's Bad For Ya."Eventually Carlin lost the buttoned-up look, favoring the beard, ponytail and all-black attire for which he came to be known.

But even with his decidedly adult-comedy bent, Carlin never lost his childlike sense of mischief, even voicing kid-friendly projects like episodes of the TV show "Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends" and the spacey Volkswagen bus Fillmore in the 2006 Pixar hit "Cars."

Carlin's first wife, Brenda, died in 1997. He is survived by wife Sally Wade; daughter Kelly Carlin McCall; son-in-law Bob McCall; brother Patrick Carlin; and sister-in-law Marlene Carlin.

Associated Press writer Christopher Weber contributed to this report.

I Wouldn't Say It's Sad...

A few nights ago, I had the opprotunity to catch up with one of my cousins via phone. Connie is a businesswoman who does consulting which often takes her to Mexico. While on a recent trip to Mexico City, she had an opprotunity to leave the hotel late at night, escorted by her business partners. The hotel caters to westerners and has a chain link fence surrounding the entire complex. On her previous trip, Connie said she didn't remember the fence, but instead remembered the seedy area the hotel was in. While the hotel was the typical western business hotel, the riff raff of Mexico City collected on the street around it; drug dealers, prostitutes, etc.

As they loaded into a van, Connie spotted a young Mexican woman standing on the street corner. Short skirt, tight top, hair teased out to here. Didn't take much imagination to know her living wasn't made in a cubicle. Connie saw this girl and remarked to her Mexican counterparts, "That's so sad..."

One of them looked questioningly at her, paused and said, "I wouldn't say it's sad...I'd say it's her choice."

In America, we have opprotunities far, FAR greater thann those of our fellow earthlings. True, some people have more opprotunities than others-no one disputes that point.. In America, people probably have more chances to live their chosen life than Mexico. Doubtful anyone would dispute that. I think it's sad someone would choose to sell their own body, but the partner of Connie's was right-it IS a choice.

It may be easier than working in a factory. It may be cleaner than begging on the streets. It may be more dangerous than working in a risky job-but it IS still a choice. Especially in America.

George Carlin is credited with a saying that goes a little something like this:

"Being born gets you a ticket to the big show. Being born in America gets you a front row seat."

And with that incredible benefit of being born in the land of opprotunity, is anything really sad? Or are the choices people make sad?

Marcus is a Wii character?

My buddy, Kyle Kuhlman, just sent me this picture of a guy who, strangely enough, bears a close resemblence to moi! Here's his note that went with it:

Hey Marcus, I just got the Wii and made up a player of myself on the sports program. I put in all the attributes of myself, pulled up the picture and it looks remarkably like you.

So, faithful reader, what do you think? I'm a little disturbed that Wii has turned me into a video game character!

Learning By Example...Or Lack Thereof

I'm a firm believer in the motto:

Learn from the mistakes of others-you can't live long enough to make them all yourself

When I think back on my upbringing, I had strong parental role models. My folks weren't violent, they weren't neglectful, they weren't uninterested in the lives of their kids. This was my primary and frequent example of what a responsible parent does and who a respectful adult is. Easy as that.

But, as I said on my Father's Day post: I'm the fortunate minority. So many people grow up in an existence which is neglectful or abusive or controlling, pick your negative trait. I'd imagine those people looked around at the adults who mistreated them and swore up and down they'd never, EVER act that way when they grew up.

So who do you learn from? The good example you want to emulate? Or the bad example which makes you want to do the exact opposite? This is a great question and tells you a lot about your learning style.

I was recently listening to a podcast of one of my fav radio shows, The Dave Glover Show. Dave grew up with parents who were strict, solid, stoic and responsible. In his words, they never bought on credit, never missed any sort of payment, never bounced a check-exactly the kind of folks all Americans should financially emulate.

However, Dave said when he became an adult, he was fiscally stupid. Bounced checks, didn't balance his checkbook, owed tons of fees on credit cards, the typical picture of the 21st century American when it comes to money. Why would someone with such a great example then screw things up so royally? In his opinion, it was because he never saw the repurcussions of bad financial choices. The family never had the power turned off, never had the car repossessed, never had to worry about being able to get to the store because there was not food for gas (or groceries, for that matter.)

Again, when you've been shown and immersed in fiscal responsibility, why then would you be so terrible financially?

I don't get it, myself. I had parents much like Glover's. To me, living withh, oh, heat, electricity, food, gas, working automobiles-those were how responsible adults did life. You didn't blow money on gambling, lottery tickets, booze, cigarettes. Why? Because they weren't affordable? No! But who knew what was coming around the bend? If all the extra money got spent on entertainment, then there was gonna be problems when the old Plymouth broke down.To me, how I was taught from childhood on was wrapped up this way:


Save, save, save. When you've saved up a pot of money, then spend what you want-responsibly. But always, ALWAYS prepare for the unexpected.

Folks, had my parents not planned for the unexpected when I was hurt in that horrible crash, we may have been swimming in debt until, um, we were all dead and buried. It doesn't seem hard to me-just the simple idea of living within one's means.

Anyway, that was kinda a tangent about money, but let's get back to developing one's ways. Why did Dave see the same thing as me, but ended up being unable to make smart choices with money? I don't know-I can only say why I did NOT make bad choices.

Now that I'm a parent, I think about the lessons I want my stepkids to learn. Whether it's by my example (which I hope is good) or the examples by the parents of their friends (which may not be so good), I can only hope they observe, learn and put into practice the tools to make a successful life.

Am I speaking strictly financially? Not at all! One of my kids recently had a run in with an adult who, to put it mildly, has all the maturity of a spoiled 10 year old. Yet, this person has been an adult for decades. This "adult" acted in such a ridiculous way that I hope my kid observed-and in a way he/she will not copy.

Whether your examples have been good or bad, I hope we all have the sense and foresight to shun the bad, mimic the good and those (hopefully) will lead to the best life possible.

Greaser E.Q.

In addition to "A Tale Of Two Cities," there is at least one other book I should have read in high school. But, alas, I did not. As a teenager, I saw "The Outsiders" with Matt Dillon, but never read the book. Though it says "For junior and senior high readers" I'm now reading it in my early 30s.

What?! You've not read it, either? Here's a quick re-cap:

Tulsa, Oklahoma in the late 60s. The two opposite ends of the socio-economic spectrum: the greasers (low class) and the socias (sp? Either way, the preppy rich kids)

A greaser, Pony Boy, is talking with a socia girl, Cherry. They're talking about the differences in their two groups. The obvious answer is wealth; one has it, the other has none. Cherry makes another point, saying it's not only money, but sophistication. Greasers are emotional-they react to everything that happens. Socias are more sophisticated and hide their feelings more.

After reading "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Goalman last year, I'm one of the converted:: i.e., those who know eemotional intelligence is a bigger factor in success than someone's I.Q. Part of being an emmotionally intelligent person is the ability to control one's emotions.

Pony Boy, the narrator of "The Outsiders" tells the story of how another greaser got arrested. Why? The greaser was in line at a store, another customer made a comment to him and the greaser turned around and BAM! Knocked out the customer with one punch. Emotionally intelligent? Not even clos. Reactionary and hot tempered? You bet your life..

The wise of the world have known E.Q. for a long while. Hey, even in the late 60s when the book was written someone seemed to know it. But whether we learn to control our emotions from the Harvard professor's book, or take a lesson in how NOT to do things from the greasers, it all adds up to one thing: out of control emotions can be the barrier to success.

Thoughts On Father's Day...

“Marcus, you go around the country inspiring people, but what inspires you?

This question was put to me a few years back. There are a ton of things which inspire me, but at the time, I had a simple answer: Springsteen lyrics.

See, just a few days prior, I’d picked up Springsteen’s latest release, “Devils And Dust.” Now, it wasn’t lyrics that inspired me to new levels, but rather, lyrics which showed me how fortunate I am. The example I gave to this person (and which I now share with you) was a few lines from my fav Boss song, “Long Time Coming.” Here goes:

“My Daddy he was just a stranger who lived in a hotel downtown,
When I was a kid he was just somebody…somebody I’d see around”

Folks, this lyric shows me I’m lucky. In this country where so many absentee fathers are simply out of the picture of the lives of their children, I didn’t have that problem. I hat a Dad who was still married to my mom, who came home from work, who didn’t abuse me, didn’t chastise me, didn’t treat me as a nuisance. A father who was actually a father, unlike the father figure from this tune. That, if nothing else, gave me a foundation so, so many people never got to have. I did…and I’m lucky.

2008 is my first Father’s Day as a father. You’d think that due to my role as a father now, I’d be all pumped about having love and attention lavished on me. Negative. I’m humble. I’m grateful. And above all else, I’m only doing the job of father that my dad taught me to do. Those accolades should be given to my Dad for teaching me to be a father and a man-it’s certainly not something I came to on my own.

Everyone knows that for a good portion of society, Christmas is a bittersweet holiday. The Norman Rockwell ideal of Christmas; family, a big turkey, a gorgeous tree, etc. isn’t all that realistic. Every year, someone dies, someone divorces, someone gets their feelings hurt and bans their participation with the family. That all American ideal is a tough one to live up to for most families.

Yet, I think Father’s Day is even more bittersweet. There are just so, so many absentee fathers out there, or fathers who never learned how to be a man; those who feel being a man means ruling with an iron fist, or controlling every action of the family, or that he should be thanked and commended at every turn due to the fact he’s a provider. Those aren’t things that make a man and we’ve done a shitty job in this country of associating testosterone-laden warriors as men. Emotionless, stoic men who never show any feelings, nor allow others to have feelings are the typical kind of men who (if they’re even around) are what wives and children often have to put up with.

With Father’s Day, we’ve been taught to honor our fathers’ sacrifices and child-rearing. But how do you honor a man who isn’t even in the picture? And should he be honored at all? And what about feeling obligated to honor a man who’s emotionally abusive? Or who suppresses one’s mother? Or who can’t get his stuff together enough to keep the family together? Those who have a father like this have to be really conflicted come the middle of June every year. I feel for them-I really do. I not only have a father who taught me to be a man, but two grandfathers who also emulated what a man should be. That makes me triple lucky. I get three male role models when so many people have none. I can’t help but feel a little greedy…and still so fortunate.

My listening pleasure this Father’s Day morning wasn’t Springsteen, but a guy out of Texas named Roger Craiger. Specifically his song, “I Got The Guns.” A better tribute to the men in his life has never been written. Summed up is one line which Roger seems to speak for all the guys out there who, like me, were so lucky to have positive male role models:

Maybe if I try real hard I can be half the man he was…”

With that, gentlemen, I hope that today you feel like I do. Lucky to be taught by good men and inspired to fulfill your role as father and man to the best of your ability. Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there…and may this day be a reminder of the importance dads and men play in the lives of family. Let’ss not take this responsibility lightly.

Graduation Day!

On May 30, my stepson, Jordan, graduated from

University High School in Orlando.

Proud steppapa I am, I am!

Along with Jordan is my surrogate daughter and Hija, Tiffani (Jordan's girlfriend).

Couldn't be prouder of the both of 'em!

New Nephew!

On Memorial Day,

our new nephew

James

joined the world!

Mom and Dad

and his two big sisters

are all doing great!

Pinellas Area Nurse Educators

Yesterday, I had the privilege of presenting to the Pinellas Area Nurse Educators. The PANE Conference was held in St. Petersburg, FL. These nurses are all employed in either a hospital or educational setting, instructing future R.N.s on ways to be excellent health care providers.

A special thanks goes to Tammy Franqueiro for being such an awesome client!

It was truly an honor to work with such a quality group of nurses who are helping to make the healing processes of patients much, much better!

You're Always 17 In Your Hometown

Have you heard this song? "You're Always 17 In Your Hometown" by Cross Canadian Ragweed? I just did for the first time...kinda makes me nostalgic.

For some, the idea of high school brings a smile to the face. For others, they cringe. I kinda split the difference...

It's true...no matter who you've become since high school, that primary identity is how you'll be remembered forever. Granted, it's only by those people who knew ya then, but still. If you look at many famous people, not all of them were studs in high school. Hell, the whole reason why Marilyn Manson started a band was because he was an unpopular public high school kid who wanted some recognition, but couldn't get it through athletics like the other students. Doesn't it make you a little happy to think of the king of evil and darkness sitting in Algebra 1, chewing on his nails and wondering if he'll get slammed into a locker between classes?

In a few weeks, my class of '93 from Montgomery County R-2 High School will celebrate our 15 year reunion.

"You're always 17 in your hometown..."

True? Maybe, maybe not.

I was one of the people who really enjoyed high school, though not until my junior and senior years. Before then? Yeesh! Hated it! But once I was the big fish in a small pond, it was a blast!

Yet, due to the fact that six months after graduation I was blinded and changed forever, THAT is the image I think most folks in my hometown remember. No matter how many books I write, goals I reach, bucks I make, places I go, fame I acquire...my opinion is that, to those from my hometown, I'll never be anything but that kid who got in that bad accident.

And ya know what? I'm wrong. My opinion is that those residents may be limited in what they can view of me...but that just shows I'm the limited one. I box people into a boundary from which they can't escape. That puts me in the wrong. I'm more guilty than those I'm forming opinions about!

Thus, my goal is to just live it. My life, the way I want it, on my terms, growing, developing, focusing. TThe opinions of others won't hold me back, and I won't allow my opinions of myself or others to limit me, either.

For the upcoming reunion, my goal is to simply go into it, being excited I'm able to meet & greet with people I haven't seen iin 15 years. More so, though, I want to be able to throw out the opinions we often form in our youth-you don't always have to stay at 17 in your hometown.

"The Heroin Diaries"

I am a child of both the 80s and 90s. I got to have all the cool toys of the 90s like Nintendo and such, but got the awesome music of the 80s like U2, Eazy E, etc.

When I first remember rock and roll, it had the face of Motley Crue. Then, after their heyday, I started to sheepishly admit I liked the Crue. After all, hair bands were out, grunge was in; things like "Girls Girls Girls" had been replaced by more meaningful songs like Nirvana's "Lithium" and Pearl Jam's "Jeremy."

So, when I came across the Crue's drummer's book, "The Heroin Diaries" (by Nikki Sixx), I was a little embarrassed downloading it. I associate the Crue with partying, but true hardcore drug use? Nah, not so much – but I was wrong.

Turns out, according to many drug rehab counselors who worked with the Crue, Sixx had the worst heroin and coke habit of anyone they'd ever worked with. That includes everyone from the Stones to the Chili Peppers. Sixx was the quintessential junkie-coke to start the day, booze and junk until the wee hours of the morning.

And yet? He's alive to tell the story. And the story is good! I'm about halfway through "The Heroin Diaries" and, let me tell ya, there have been several times when I've felt my stomach lurch with visions of what life was like for Sixx back in 87.

And know the best thing of all? His dedication.

The book starts out with the dedication to all addicts who've kicked booze and drugs. Those who will kick junk, too.

I have an enormous amount of respect for recovering addicts. Truly, I do. It takes so much guts to admit, "I have a bad problem and I want to get better." To do that first step, then go through with the tough follow up of changing one's life altogether is a HUGE thing...I'm glad to see Sixx honoring those who've also made that gutsy move.

Thanks to Academy At The Lakes!

The last several days, book orders have been flowing in like "After This..." is going out of style! Almost all of these orders are from Academy At The Lakes in suburban Tampa, FL.

Academy At The Lakes hosted me for a spring program back in April. Then, last month, I learned Academy is using "After This..." as one of their summer reading choices.

Thanks to the decision makers at Academy who okayed this, but thanks to the students for being so pumped about getting your own copies! Hope I can make it back to Academy in the near future!

A Recent Obituary

In my literary life, there have been four phases:

1. When I didn't know how to read (birth to 3 or so)

2. When I loved to read! (3 until, say, 13)

3. When I hated reading and only picked up a book when it was assigned (13-17)

4. When I re-learned some passion for the written word; so much so I began to create my own (17-present)

For the last four or five years of phase #2, I'd often check out books from the public library in Montgomery City (just a hop, skip and a jump from my hometown). On Saturday mornings, you could find me sitting on the floor in the back of the library, flipping through giant picture books of warfare; everything from spears to M-16s in the Vietnam Conflict. In those shelves was where I learned the value of just how much knowledge there is in the world-and that's probably why I want to know EVERYTHING now! The rebellious, slothful teenage years hadn't kicked into full gear, so I was still able to dig books just because, well, I dig books. It wasn't yet cool to NOT like reading (something I hope teens today don't emulate.)

Anyway, there at the Montgomery County Public Library was an elderly librarian named Laura. The things I remember about Laura were 1. she was a heavy, heavy smoker (yes, this was in the days when no one seemed to have a problem with smoking in the library) and 2. she seemed to know EVERYTHING about books! It was Laura who first introduced me to J.R.R. Tolkein and the Lord of the Rings trilogy-some 15 years before the movies made "Hobbitt" a household word!

While at my parents' home last week, my Mom was flipping through the local paper when she came across Laura's obituary. Laura hadn't really crossed my mind in years, but at the news of her passing, I thought back on those Saturday mornings. I also began to remember something Laura taught me without ever even knowing she was sending a lesson along...

Another library employee who worked with Laura was profoundly disabled. I don't think I ever knew this woman's name, and my best guess is that she had a severe case of cerebral palsey. This woman would sit behind Laura's desk in her electric wheelchair, body twisted at what looked like painful angles, jerky, robotic movements to sort books into large metal bins.

What I assume was C.P. had robbed this woman of all but the most sparce of motor functions. She could grip a book, but couldn't sit it down gently. Into the big metal bin the books would go, nearly shaking the windows with the clattering "BANG!" In the years I went to the library, this woman never spoke. Guessing here, but it seemed her disability wouldn't allow her verbal communication, either.

Sitting just a few feet away from Laura, she'd do her tasks of book organizing, books banging all the while. Laura, meanwhile, checked the cards in each of my loans, talked to me about the content of each, asked me about the last books, I'd read, never once paying attention to the ruckus being raised just a step away.

Was she oblivious to the noise? Unlikely. She was, however, comfortable working with this woman and her limitations. At the first loud slam, it would have seemed proper to drop what she was doing, run to the aid of the woman at the rear, check to see if everything was okay. But she didn't. Why? Probably because she knew nothing was wrong, just accepting this woman's disability and the tiny inconveniences that went along with it. She didn't offer help, didn't hover, just let the woman perform her task.

Laura certainly never acted like her co-worker had any sort of cognitive disability. To this day, I don't know if she did or not. My guess is no. She simply lived in a body that had more limitations than almost any other I've ever met. But Laura didn't treat her like she was profoundly disabled-she just let her do her job.

Frankly, Laura's comfort level with a person of this limited ability was disconcerting to my pre-teen self. It was, however, exactly how a person with a disability should be treated: with respect, honor and without making the disability their sole identity. Some of the best lessons are taught by inaction; when a loud crash would happen, Laura wouldn't even look up. I wanted to yell, "What happened?! Is she okay?!" all while pointing toward the figure in the electric wheelchair. But I didn't. Because Laura didn't act like anything was wrong. That made me also think nothing was wrong. Laura would finish her stamping of my books, wish me luck and would turn back to her own novel and overflowing ashtray.

You know, I'm not sure I'd ever thought of this until I heard of Laura's passing, but I have to think her actions (or more specifically, lack thereof) towards individuals with disabilities helped mold my opinions. Never assume that if one's body doesn't work well, that their mind doesn't, too. Don't hover, don't coddle, don't protect-just allow that person to live his/her life and to do their job.

When I became a person with a disability, I knew darned good and well I didn't want to be treated in a way other than the respect Laura showed her co-worker. I hope this memory may remind you, faithful reader, of how to respect and honor the existence of all people, those with disabilities and those without. If there's net access in the hereafter, I hope Laura may read this and rest assured she helped mold the life of one little bookworm many years ago.

Missouri Rehab Association

As promised, here are the pics from the MRA conference from earlier this week. It was truly a joy to be with all the MRA folks – again, these are some of the most giving, delightful people I could ever hope to work with! Left to right we have Frank, an assessment guru with A.O. of Springfield (and one of the kindest people you could ever hope to meet), my client, Kim Vaughn, a Voc Rehab counselor, moi, and Joe, an administrator with A.O. of Springfield (and one of the most professional, dedicated individuals I've ever worked with.) Thanks again, MRA, for doing what you do and for welcoming me into your conference! Y'all are a blast!

International Shriners Day!

In honor of the founding of the International Council of Shriners of North America on June 6, 1876, nobles (aka, Shriners) everywhere celebrate International Shrine Day!

Having just become a Shriner within the last few months, I'm proud to be celebrating my first Shrine Day. How does this work? Simple:

Nobles everywhere are to wear their red fez, a Shrine tee-shirt or a Shrine lapel pin-just to show their affiliation with the Shrine. If you've not seen a fez, take a look at that handsome devil in the pic...see that big thing on his head? No, not his nose! That red thing that looks like an inverted narrow bucket? That's the traditional Shriner's fez. Think wearing one of those to Wal-Mart may generate some awareness? If nothing else, it'll definitely show some fashion sense!

Still, what is the Shrine? What do they do? What do they believe? Why do they wear funny hats?

Simply put, the Shrine is a Masonic fraternity body created to have fun with a purpose. The fun results from fraternization, parties, socials, parades, etc., and the purpose remains the same: to support the Shriners Hospitals of North America.

Shriners Hospitals are some of the best medical care one can get for burns and orthopedic issues that confront children. No patient at a Shriners Hospital is ever charged a single penny-this makes the Shrine Hospitals the greatest philanthropy in the world. With a daily operating budget in excess of $2 million, the fun we nobles have is only surpassed by the incredible help given to children in need of intense medical care.

Happy Shrine Day to my fellow nobles!

If you'd like to learn more about the Shrine and the philanthropic work we Shriners do, please view:

http://www.shrinenet.com/

or my home Shrine's web page at:

http://www.bahiashrine.com/

Family Pharmacy Teams With Marcus!

Well, it's finally happened! Ever since the release of my books in the fall of 2006, I've looked for a retailer in my hometown. You'd think this wouldn't be so challenging, but it sure was!

Then, a retailer found me! In March, I was honored to be the key note speaker at the National Honor Society induction at my alma mater, Montgomery County R-2 in Montgomery City, MO.

Attending the induction of their daughter, Ellie, were Jack and Janet Holtman, owners of Family Pharmacy in Montgomery City. Mr. and Mrs. Holtman (and Ellie) purchased my books and passed them along to several others after they read them. As always, I'm humbled and honored when anyone passes my book along with the recommendation, "Hey, you should read this!"

Well, Jack and Janet also decided to inquire about becoming a retailer of "After This..." and "The Other End of The Stethoscope." I, of course, was ecstatic to be able to offer books to readers in my hometown by way of a local retailer!

Family Pharmacy is located on North Sturgeon in Montgomery City, MO. I hope folks from my home area will stop in, say HI to Jack and Janet, and maybe pick up a book while they're at it!

Special thanks to Jack and Janet Holtman for their desire to help me spread my message!

MRA

Yesterday morning, I was the keynote speaker for the closing session at the Missouri Rehabilitation Association 2008 annual conference. What a treat!

Folks, let me give you a little idea of what members of the MRA do...

Let's pretend you're a Missourian (and skip this step if you are, in fact, a resident of the Show-Me State). You become disabled or, for whatever reason, you've just never worked with the state. You and your disability go to Vocational Rehab, explain your disability and the counselor tells you what your next options are. He/she gives you a choice of a few different orgs which will do evaluation, testing and training, all in an effort to minimize the effects of your disability AND help you to become a productive, employable member of society.

Now, faithful reader, think what sort of personality it takes to work in this field?

Those who work in the field of rehabilitation are typically caregivers-they want to help, nurture and support others to accomplish the individual's goals. THIS is the kind of person I was humbled to work with through MRA. I'm tellin' ya...every single person I met had such a warm, comfortable and caring aura about them...I just wanted to give the entire audience hugs!

A very, VERY big thanks goes to Kim Vaughn from the Springfield Voc Rehab office for being such a great client (and for being just a sweetheart of a person). I'd also like to acknowledge Joe, Brian and Frank from A.O. out of Springfield, MO, as well. Faithful Reader, you could not find three kinder individuals if you went to the International Convention of Nice People! These three guys are precisely the types of folks who line the streets of heaven (at least, in my personal idea of heaven).

Thanks to all the counselors, providers and vendors who attended the MRA conference! And especially to all those who purchased books and took the time to chit chat with me afterwards. I'm truly humbled by what you do and how you do it!

(pictures coming tomorrow, don't worry!)

You Can't Help Those...

Yesterday morning I returned to Missouri for a few different things; family reunion, speaking at a conference, a few other business items. First, though, was the family reunion...

Ever been to a family reunion? Like, extended family? These events have the potential to be really great-or really miserable. Luckily, this one fell closer to the great side of things.

After the reunion, a few cousins came back to my parents' house for a bit. We were discussing other relatives and friends (non-gossipy, of course!) when someone brought up someone's medical situation. The gentleman in question has been in terrible health for the last year or more. He's middle aged, but the pain his body is in is more like that of an 80 year old. And yet? He refuses to go to the doctor.

This gentleman's family has talked until they're blue in the face, trying to convince him to seek a doctor's insight-or at least get some medicine. SOMETHING to get him well again. Still, he refuses.

While we were discussing this situation, my cousin, Richard,, made a completely appropriate point:

"You can't help those who won't help themselves."

Family has such a different realm of dynamics. They can love unconditionally...and they can spike emotional pain like nothing else. Welcome to family!

Most generally, those in our family get more grace than the average person on the street. We pour loads of emotional energy into trying to help those with whom we share DNA. And when family members refuse something so obviously good for them, what do we do?

I think Richard's summation is quite appropriate. For family, for friends, for Joe Average guy on the street-you can't help those who won't help themselves.