To Run Or Not To Run

It's Saturday morning, and the wind is calm, the sky is clear, with not even a suggestion of humidity. In short, I can find no reliable excuse not to go for a run. In addition, the fact that I have failed to go for a run all week despite similarly perfect conditions, makes it all the more imperative that I get this done. Yet I sit here drinking coffee, in my pajamas, staring at the beautiful morning struggling vainly to summon sufficient resolve. I do battle with my conscience thusly...

Why do I have to run? Exercise is actually quite dangerous. How many times have I read stories about some runner collapsing from a heart attack or being hit by a car? And what exactly is to be gained by the sweat and pain of a three mile run? What, will it add 7 days to my lifespan? I'm sure I'll be thrilled with another week of Leave It To Beaver reruns at the nursing home in 2048. Yeah, but it IS good for me in the here and now what with the release of endorphins and what-not. It does relieve stress, I guess. But it's just ....running. When I was two, running was the most awesome thing in the world. In fact I would bolt off in chaotic spasms of glee at the slightest provocation, often resulting in hilarious face-plants, to the delight of all...or so I'm told. When I was a teenager running was great competition. I would challenge anyone, anywhere to a sprint. Who was fastest, THAT was the question. Running was about the race, and back then, who didn't love a race?? Now, running is a dreary business. It is a chore, a tacit admission that one "needs exercise". I run to mitigate the ill-effects of ominous sounding ailments...hyper-tension, heart disease. But the very act of running opens me up to all manner of disastrous possibilities. I could turn an ankle, become distracted and run into a light-pole, be run down from behind by some intoxicated teenager behind the wheel of his Dad's SUV, become disoriented by all those endorphins and get lost, winding up in a bad section of Wyndham. The more I think about it, this running business opens up the Dunnevant brand up to a sizable and disturbing level of risk that I'm not sure is appropriate, given how many people are counting on me. I have to think about THEM, this exercise thing can't be all about me!

But, if I don't run...I will start to put on weight. The middle will get soft, and soon it will start looking like the lower-middle. Before long, I'll have a double-chin, then when people who I haven't seen in a while run in to me they will whisper to their friends after I leave..."Wow, Dunnevant really let himself go. What a shame." Finally. I've finally stumbled upon an emotion strong enough to get my sorry ass motivated...vanity!

The Last Concert . . . A Tribute to Sherri Matthews

Tonight I will attend the last chorus concert at Godwin High School directed by Sherri Matthews. After a long and historically successful tenure as Choral Director, Sherri is stepping down at the end of the school year to pursue yet another high stress, cut-throat job... in church music.  So tonight will be her last concert, and I will be there with Pam and my two kids, both of whom were her former students. My nephew Ryan will be singing in a couple of the choirs. There's a picture of the empty auditorium on Facebook that shows over half the seats with saved markers on them. Four of them better be mine.

My exposure to Godwin Chorus and Sherri only goes back to Kaitlin's freshman year, 2001.  Before then, I thought all high school chorus programs consisted of 25 or so kids looking for an easy "A," half of whom were tone deaf.  My image of chorus teachers conjured up a cross between Mr. Whipple and Aunt Bea.  But soon, I began to hear stories about this crazy Diet Dr.Pepper-swilling woman at Godwin who made music fun, demanded excellence from her students, and was a little scary.  All Kaitlin would say was that, "Ms. Matthews is really demanding, Dad . . . but we really sound good!"  The winter concert that year, my first of many, was beyond description.  Instead of 25 kids, there were hundreds . . . and six different choirs. There were barber shop and beauty shop groups, all-girl choirs, mixed choirs, a show choir, and a kind of "all-star" group called "Madrigals."  I sat there in my cramped, uncomfortable seat in a standing room only auditorium, amazed at the talent, poise and passion of the students and the commanding presence of their director.  She WAS a little scary, and she meant business brother.  The kids knew it and so did everyone in the house. The richness of the music that came out of those kids was astonishing. The best part was that they were having fun and brimming with confidence as they sang.  Real confidence, the kind that can only come from real accomplishment.  Sherri wasn't running a feel-good program where everyone gets a trophy for  showing up.  She was educating a large group of young people about the beauty of music that deserved one's best effort, the proper expression of which took hard work.  I was hooked.

Soon it began, the six years of Pam's work with Choral Boosters (the fund-raising juggernaut of Short Pump), my years wielding the clip-board at concerts explaining to angry parents and grandparents why, "No, you can't sit there, because that seat is reserved for our Platinum Club members!"  There were state and regional competitions, most of which we rocked, and spring trips all over the east coast from Orlando to New York. There were a series of unflattering choir dresses, ill-fitting tuxedos and six end of the year awards dinners.  But mostly . . . there was the music.  I would sit there in the darkness, oddly fighting back tears as I listened.

Tonight I will listen again.  Kaitlin will be there.  When she went off to college she eagerly joined  the Cedarville woman's choir that was led by a very talented and wonderful woman.  After one year Kaitlin dropped out.  When I asked why she said, "Dad, the director was very nice and we sounded good, but just about the time we got close to getting a song  right, she would stop and say, "Good enough."  Ms. M NEVER said, "Good enough."  Patrick will also be there. He is on the road as I write this, making the 9 hour drive from Nashville to be here. It was Sherri who provided the leadership and example that encouraged Patrick to pursue a life in music.  Tonight, Madrigals will perform one of his arrangements. The chances of me having a huge knot in my throat are approximately 100%.

So thank you, Sherri, for being the type of educator who nobody forgets.  Thanks for introducing the beauty of music to an entire generation of Henrico county students.  Thanks for being tough, demanding, and yes . . . scary.  Thanks for ruining Kaitlin's college choir experience.  Oh, and see ya at church Sunday!

Does Money Buy Happiness, Mr. Pujols?

I can give you 240 million reasons why I shouldn't feel sorry for Albert Pujols. After ten fabulous seasons in St. Louis where he established himself as the best player in baseball, Albert signed a free-agent contract with the Los Angeles Angels. Ever since he showed up in Hollywood he has been in an epic slump which currently finds him hitting a paltry .197. He has hit one home run in his first 37 games. There are currently several pitchers with higher batting averages than Albert. He is pressing. His butt-cheeks are so tight he could crack walnuts back there. The fans are starting to murmur. He never, ever smiles on the field anymore. He looks like a lost man.

His old team is doing great. The Cardinals offered Albert big money to stay with them, to be a Cardinal for life. He could have replaced Stan Musial in the hearts of the best and most loyal baseball fans on the planet. Albert said "Thanks, but no thanks". Now the Cardinals have some rookie playing first base who they are paying the league minimum, and he's chugging along pretty well, and the team is in first place. Meanwhile Albert looks miserable both at the plate, in the field and in the dugout. But he's cashing ridiculously large checks, so that's something.

And yet, I can't help but feel sorry for the guy. You're the best hitter in baseball in St. Louis for ten years. Then suddenly you're the richest man in baseball, the face of a new team with huge expectations, and you can't get the ball out of the infield. It's got to be the most frustrating experience in sports...justifying your huge new contract in front of a stadium full of working stiffs who just forked over $100 for a seat to watch you play. Great players get off to slow starts all the time in baseball. Some guys hate the cold weather in April, pitchers always have the advantage early, etc.. But it's now the middle of May. It's plenty warm. The 2012 season is nearing the quarter pole, and you're still searching for your second homer and still hitting under .200? This is getting ugly.

I've been in a performance-based business all of my life. If I don't close business, I'm a failure. I've been through my share of sales slumps in my 29 years in business. They are no fun. After a while you begin to have doubts. You begin to wonder if maybe this time it's different. Maybe this time, you're done. Maybe you'll never close another case, ever. The difference for me is I don't have a 240 million dollar contract for the next ten years, guaranteed to pay me no matter what.


Albert's agent negotiated a few perks to go along with all the money. One such perk is that Albert gets a hotel suite to stay in when his team is on the road. So he has lots of room to stretch out and watch his latest 0 for 4 performance get dissected by the talking heads on Sports Center. Does money buy happiness? Just ask Mr. Pujols. 

Observations On The Wide World Of Sports

On this Saturday before Mother's Day, a few scattered observations on the wide World of Sports:

Is there anything better than a game seven? It doesn't matter what sport...well except for soccer, having to endure the previous six in that sport would have done me in...but seriously, game seven showdowns are awesome and lately we've had tons of them. Basketball and hockey have given us some great stuff in this regard, and there is more to come. The Lakers v. Nuggets and the Capitals v. Rangers are on tap this weekend. Nice. Everything on the line, all hands on deck, loser goes home, winner takes all. Just like war except, nobody dies. Awesome!

I see where Lebron is going to win his 3rd MVP award, or is it his 4th? Yawn.. It will look great up there on his mantle along with all of his championship trophies..uh, no wait. It will look great up there with his MVP trophies from the playoffs, er..it will blend in nicely with his many MR. CLUTCH awards from..no scratch that. Well, regardless, 4 MVP trophies is pretty impressive, right?

The Texas Rangers played the Anaheim Angles last night. Josh Hamilton hit two home runs, giving him 17 for the year along with 40 RBI's and a .407 batting average...in 33 games. Albert Pujols, on the other hand, went 0 for 4 and watched his batting average drop to exactly 20 points lower than his playing weight (.197). Josh knocked in more runs in one game last week than Al has knocked in all year. Al's old team, the Cardinals? Lets see, without the great Albert, they have managed to rack up a record of 20-12, good enough for first place in the National League central. When will Baseball owners learn that one player cannot fundamentally transform a baseball team into a contender? Baseball, unlike any other team sport that I can think of, does not respond to the infusion of star power. In basketball, any team that added Michael Jordan back in the day would have instantly become a contender. In football, a dominant QB instantly alters a teams' prospects. But in baseball, no one player, even one with the gaudy talents of an Albert Pujols, or earlier an Alex Rodriguez has that kind of transformative power. He's only one of 9. He only comes to the plate 4 times a game. He doesn't pitch. But there were the Angles over the winter signing Albert Pujols up for ten years to the tune of 240 million dollars. Good luck with that, Angels. This winter it's Josh Hamilton's turn. He's a free agent. Will some team, probably the Yankees, sign a 30 year old awesome talent with a history of drug and alcohol addictions to an insanely ridiculous long term contract, then sit back and watch him hit .270 with 20 homers and 80 RBI's for a couple of season before landing either on the DL or in rehab? Yep. Sure hope it ends up being the Yankees.

Having A Gay-Marriage debate With Myself

The issue of gay marriage is all over the news lately what with President Obama's election year "evolution" on the subject as well as the State of North Carolina being the latest state to vote down the idea. I have read all of the arguments on both sides and come away exhausted. Trying to flesh out one's views extemporaneously on a blog sounds like a terrible idea, but here we go.

I suppose I should state at the beginning my views on homosexuality itself. From a biblical perspective, I believe it to be a sin. The verses in the old testament and the new are famous and I won't repeat them here. I have heard the theological revisionism on the subject and believe it to be untenable, as it asks me not to believe the clear words that I read in scripture, and to ignore what I observe in creation. Having said that, as a theological conservative who attends a rather fundamental congregation, I have always been uncomfortable with what I consider to be our unhealthy obsession with this particular sin. In the great cosmos of transgressions, the practice of homosexuality ranks way down the list of offenses that threaten my hearth and home. Would that Baptists were as hyped up about adultery among heterosexuals, for instance, or the rampant use of pornography among the faithful. Scripture teaches me that we are all sinners in need of redemption, homosexual, and heterosexual alike. Salvation offered through Christ extends to all of us, and attempts to marginalize gays by some churches is one of the many transgressions that rank higher on the venal list in my opinion. Although it is true that sin is sin, and our views on which sins are "worse" than others says more about us than it does sin, I feel the need to point out the fact that our Lord uttered not one word on the subject in his time on Earth.

The issue of gay-marriage is a completely different issue for me since it involves questions of government, and law. The first question that I have to answer concerning the thing is this..."What does the government have at stake here?" Traditionally, government has gotten involved in the institution of marriage for several reasons, but primarily because marriage was the institution from which children were produced. There was a connection between erotic sex and the predictable result of children. Government then had a vested interest in the encouragement of lasting contracts between parents largely for the protection of the family unit, the building blocks of society, as it were. It was in the best interest of society that these family units stayed intact so that the children produced were not abandoned to become wards of the state. So Governments got involved, issuing licences and crafting tax law and inheritance laws to insure stability of the family unit multi-generationally. This was not the only reason, of course, since some couples never have kids etc.. but governments have much less interest in protecting or encouraging emotional unions like a father and son who join together to raise a child after the mother dies. The key point about marriage that attracted governments attention was the issue of procreation...period.

Which brings us to the issue of why should the definition of marriage be changed to accommodate same sex unions who by definition cannot procreate? Listening to the back and forth from both sides on this thing is  dizzying. Platitudes and non-sequiturs doing fierce hand to hand combat with straw-men. What it comes down to for many on the pro side is that homosexuals in our society, long marginalized and bullied need the social validation that can only be provided by marriage. All of the other legal and financial benefits derived from marriage can be provided through tweaks in civil union statutes, but only legal recognized marriage can provide the lifestyle validation and equally needed. The anti side counters that if we change the definition of marriage to accommodate "feelings" then what legal basis will there be to deny equal validation for other non-traditional relationships? Polygamy and Polyamory are thrown out as suggestions of where a rewriting of a 4,000 year institution might logically lead. I read the opinions of learned men and women and see their passionate defense of both sides and come away grateful that I am not a federal judge.

So, what to think? Not withstanding my personal views on homosexuality, I fail to see what damage could possibly be done to traditional marriage if gay people are allowed in to the club. I'm not sure that gays know fully what they are getting themselves in to since nearly 50% of traditional marriages end in screaming hysterical accusations of infidelity, and enormous alimony judgements. But, if there's a gay couple out there who want to commit themselves to be bound legally and emotionally to each other, I find no reason to stand in their way. Should my church be required against it's teachings to sanction that union? No. Will this rewriting of the definition of marriage lead to laws mandating that churches be required to perform such ceremonies? I certainly hope not, and if the phrase "separation of church and state" is to have any meaning, it BETTER not.

Two nagging thoughts. First, with 9% unemployment, 2% economic growth, a 15 trillion dollar national debt and the most powerful nation on the planet now in it's 1108th day without a budget, gay marriage is what the two presidential candidates are talking about. Really?? Second, how would my views on this issue change if my son or daughter or best friend were to inform me that they were gay? I ask this because it has been my experience in life that is easy to marginalize and demonize a group of people who you have no connection to, but much harder to do so when someone whom you love is involved. I feel certain that my theological position would not change. Maybe none of my views would change. But I do know this..they would still be my son, my daughter, my friend, and I would still love them. The bitterness and rage that I have observed on the various discussion boards on this topic have staggered me...from both sides. Nothing is quite as venomous and hateful as anonymity. Some from the conservative side seem to believe that those who disagree with them are evil sexual predators destined for hell, sent there by the same God that created the AIDS virus as his judgement. Some on the other side try to portray me as a diabolical cross between Adolph Hitler and Bull Connor, intent on nothing less than the extermination of every gay and lesbian on the planet.

I guess what it comes down to for me is this. Although I believe that homosexuality is not God's plan for the human race, I see no compelling reason why two committed gay people should not be allowed to get married. For this I feel certain that I will be vilified by both sides. Do I see a contradiction in the two views? Not really. Am I sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am right about this? Not really. But this is what I think right now.

My wife...silent assassin

Several weeks ago my wife introduced me to a game called "Words With Friends." I play it on my cell phone. It amounts to cyber-scrabble, and it's quite addicting.Generally speaking I beat most people I play...except my wife, over whom I prevail only half the time..if that. I believe that my relatively poor performance against Pam is attributable to the fact that she plays on the large roomy surface of her i-Pad while I labor on the cramped confines of an i-Phone. She clearly has the advantage since her large play space allows more freedom of thought and a greater ability to visualise her words. Of course she thinks that I'm making excuses, being a whiner, and developing a "loser's limp". She is correct on all counts!

It's a bit infuriating the way she beats me at this stupid game. The other day for instance, I was ahead practically the entire game, playing such inspired words as, "xysts" and "zit" on the TW space...I was sailing along. Then, out of nowhere she plays some lame word with her last letters and I'm caught with three letters left whose total points were deducted from my score giving her a 4 point win! Wha..what? How did she do that?

I'll tell you how she does it..she's a diabolical competitor. She goes out there and plays her friend Dodie, beats her like a drum since she is the worst WWF player in history, gets her confidence up, then challenges me to a game. Then, she plots and schemes there on her ginormous i-Pad screen and comes up with ridiculous words even though she spends the entire game complaining about the fact that she has "all vowels!!" Just when I start to actually have sympathy for her vowel-less condition, she throws down.."quiz" using the triple letter AND triple word tiles, scores 128 points, then falls silent downstairs on the sofa drinking her chai tea, a silent assassin. I married the Attila the Hun of word games.

Odd Week

What a strange week. There are times in life when, like the pretty nurse in Penny Lane, you feel as if you're in a play. It's as if you're the central character in a production of some importance, but you don't know your lines. That was me this week. It wasn't all bad. I wrote a very nice piece of profitable business, on which I will no doubt pay my fair share of taxes, confirming my reputation as a prodigious provider for my family. But the rest of the week was odd.

For reasons not entirely clear to me I have been in charge of telephones and Internet service at my business. When we built the place I drew the short straw and was assigned the job of finding a phone system, and then arranging for Internet and phone service. It isn't possible for anyone to be more ill-suited for such a task. I'm a creative thinker, a writer. My intelligence has always been limited to literature, music and history. Mathematics and the hard sciences leave me cold. I can't fix anything mechanical, never have cared a whit about what's under the hood of my car, that sort of thing. Anyway, in my roll as "the phone guy", I have been looking to consolidate all three services ( phone, Internet, and cable) with one provider, which, I was assured, would save us nearly $400 per month. Yesterday was "installation day". I knew I was in trouble withing 5 minutes of their arrival when the technician took one look into the phone closet, then asked me.."Who's your IT guy?"

ME:  Um..we don't have an IT guy. But if we did he would probably be me.

TECH GUY: Well, who do you get your data feeds from?

ME: Data feeds?..Wha..?

TECH GUY: You've got some sort of hybrid analog/ electrical system here and I need to have someone who can wire your router, and coordinate the transfer of your IP address into this new interface, so your network will work properly.

ME:.....but I just wanted a new phone service so I could save $400 a month. Hybrid..eh what?


It went on like this for ten minutes or so, me speaking halting English, he speaking very confident and rapid-fire Klingon. Ultimately I had to call the whole thing off because the girl who gave me the money saving quote failed to pick up on the fact that we needed 12 lines, not 5. So, all was for naught.Four hours of my life that I will never get back were spent feeling like a complete moron.


Then I stumble upon the "Life Of Julia" web slide show put out by the Obama campaign which illustrates in cartoon form the wondrous benevolence of Barack Obama's policies on the life of a composite woman named Julia from age 3 all the way to age 67...or as Clement Atllee would say, from "cradle to grave". It was an astonishing thing to watch. Julia enters Kindergarten fully prepared only because of the existence of "Head Start". She then does well in school and doesn't get fat only because of new nutritional requirements on school lunches mandated by government. When Julia becomes of a sexually active age she gets free birth control from her government health care plan so she can "concentrate on her life without worry". When Julia graduates from college her minimal student loans have a low affordable interest rate only because of the moderating hand of government price controls. When Julia decides to "have a child" ( no husband appears in this narrative ) she has prenatal tests performed and receives quality medical care only because of the wonders of Obamacare. etc.. etc.. No mention is made of how much any of this costs or who is paying for it. The striking thing about Julia is the fact that she doesn't resemble any of the women I have known in my life. This child seems totally bereft of Independence. Every accomplishment in her life is presented as a consequence of the existence of a paternalistic, caring government. The one thing Julia does that shows even the slightest bit of initiative..starting a web-based business, was only possible because she got a loan from the Small Business Administration. As I watched the slide show this disturbing thought came to me. The very fact that someone at team Obama thought that this was a good and persuasive  thing, that this would attract voters rather than repulse them gave me a chill. Fifty years ago, no self respecting Democrat would portray women in this way, as helpless, fragile flowers who without the lifelong intervention of a compassionate and all-knowing government, would wither on the vine of life. But, today, I live in a country where this kind of government is celebrated and promoted in slick graphics on the website of the President of the United States for all the world to see.

To top off my week I went to the doctor for a check-up. The news wasn't the greatest I've ever had at a doctor's office. On the way home I turn on the radio to hear that Elizabeth Warren, democratic candidate for the senate from Massachusetts, had listed her race as American Indian on her application to Harvard to improve her chances of acceptance and promotion at that fine institution. Evidence of her racial heritage consisted of the fact that her great grandfather had "high cheek-bones", and that her great, great, great, great grandfather married a woman who put Cherokee on a marriage license application in the 1800's making Ms. Warren 1/32nd American Indian. Ms. Warren,  meet Julia.

I believe that cloud that descended over my mood this week is what the Psychiatrists call.."alienation".