Friday, August 2, 2013
Friday, April 26, 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
When I was at Wabash College between 1952 and 1955, the national Decathlon was held. At that time, the Reverend Bob Richards was an outstanding pole vaulter, nicknamed the vaulting vicar. I had the privilege of eating breakfast with him at the start of the second day of track and field events. His forearms seemed to have more muscle than my thighs.
He was behind a younger athlete in scoring for the five events of the first day. He shared with me how much he would like to win, but that would take everything going his way through the day ahead.
I was serving soft drinks at the high jump event where the leading, young athlete had missed twice at the present height. This was Bob Richards chance to overtake him. If he missed his third attempt, he would be scored at his prior successful height.
Amazingly, Bob Richards went over to him and said, "You can make this jump. You are planting your foot a little bit too far away from the bar." Bob Richards took a silvery gum wrapper and placed it carefully in front of the bar saying, "If you plant your foot on this, I think you can clear it."
I was stunned, knowing how much Bob Richards wanted to overtake the young athlete, and yet, here he was helping him.
Then it really hit me. The leading athlete and his coach never hesitated with thoughts that Bob Richards might be trying to sabotage him. With confidence, he planted his foot firmly on that gum wrapper, glinting in the sun, as though it were a scripture from the Bible and cleared the bar.
I don't remember who won the high jump, but Bob Richards won the Decathlon.
As I saw Bob Richards on the package of Wheaties as a Breakfast of Champions, I thought how favored I was to have witnessed such a great athlete and one with such an unquestioned reputation of sportsmanship.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Sunday, August 16, 2009
"The more the elements necessary for proper behavior of a consumer and a vendor are removed from the the point of transaction, the more irresponsible the result."
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Some of it was used by the obviously futile goal of living forever. Learn from that and accept the official reality of "quality-adjusted years of life expectancy" as your guide. This will be determined by a government that has your entire electronic medical record and control over the delivery of what medical care they decide you warrant. Who better to know your worth? Study the authorized course in thanatology and end of life decisions early so that you will have perfected the psychological mechanisms of coping with death. Death will be the easier frustration with which to cope. You will be prevented from using your own assets to obtain existing medical services to fight it. After all, communal egalitarianism is the new foundation and must be honored, avoiding the greediness of self reliance and the quest to excel for yourself and your family. What medical care the government has deemed it can't afford for the masses, should be foregone with quiet acquiescence.
The example of consideration by the state of Oregon in denying a patient a cancer drug under the state's program of care with the compassionate touch of assuring the patient in the same letter that doctor-assisted suicide, however, is a covered benefit is a forerunner of the coming era.
Government officials will not be part of this program because of the ethically sensitive need to maintain an arms-length distance from it which will enhance objective management of it.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
The following was written by my grandson Joshua Thomas
when he was twelve years old showing his thoughts
on what it would have been like on that fateful day.
September 11, 2001
A day like the rest, filled up with fun
Summer is ending
Daylight is shorter
Daddy is yet to come home.
Dinner is soon
Why isn't he here?
All I know is sirens are near.
Mom is cooking, I am thinking
Then she flips on the news
Every channel is the same
Headlines read, "Who's to blame?"
Below is a picture
of smoke and rubble.
Momma's face has changed
Pale and white, astonished?
I ask her what's wrong
Tears are replying, rushing, falling
Sirens are blaring