Category: Commentary

It’s a complex issue… dating back far beyond 50 years.

There are passionate beliefs on both sides.

Some want to use the cudgel of perspectives rooted in centuries past.

Others cling to a more recent precedent that shouldn’t be revisited.

It’s a topic influenced by one’s upbringing… with religion, race and resolve playing roles in one’s personal decision.

Many never change their opinion. Others do over time. Some go back-and-forth, unable to gain clarity on where they should land.

There’s a strong likelihood the nation will never agree and 50 years hence this will still be a topic that creates a cultural divide and brings out our worst selves.

Personally, I know where I stand.

When it comes to this issue – especially as we begin a Fourth of July weekend celebrating unity – my position is: you put mustard on a hot dog, not ketchup (although you should get to make your own choice). 

The last time I held a video game controller was probably 2011, when our then 12-year-old youngest would regularly trounce me in Wii Tennis and Bowling. Despite my lack of video interest, I am aware of the term NPC, which stands for ‘Non Player Character.’ In the high-tech world, it could be a pedestrian on a street corner, a ’person’ in the crowd, or even an image controlled by the AI to move the storyline further ahead.

There are, or course, NPCs in the real-world environment. The stranger you pass on the sidewalk while hurrying to your next appointment. The person who hops on the elevator one floor short of your destination. The receptionist at the building you visit.

As an introvert, I am quite comfortable not engaging with people around me at a ball game, or at the grocery checkout counter, and especially at a cocktail social. One of my close friends told me years ago, “You’re the best 20-second conversationalist I know,” and he was exaggerating by about 10.

Yet, I’m wondering – amidst this age when our country seems disconnected, disrupted and distrusted – what would happen if I made time once each day to connect with a person otherwise in the periphery of my vision. Not to regale them with my point of view. Simply to say hello and ask how they’re doing. Then listen to their story without judgment.

Perhaps I might discover a New Player Character who isn’t all that different from me. 

Living in Houston – at least in our Northwest part of the megapolis – there are several power surges and brief outages each month. (We won’t mention, for the purpose of this missive, the longer ones caused by hurricanes and freezes.)

Experts say these shorten the life of electronic devices, so having surge protectors is essential. When we moved here in ‘98, I diligently added them between every expensive piece of equipment and the wall outlets – and kept them in place whenever we replaced things.

A few months ago, I thought, ‘Wonder how long these things last?’ Several Google clicks later and I learned each power hit reduces the overall effectiveness and, thus, the lifespan of a surge protector. That means ours became worthless about a decade ago.

Amazon soon delivered ones for the entire house – not an inexpensive investment – and I took the old ones to Best Buy to be safely recycled or disposed.

Last week, we upgraded the nearly 24-year-old electrical circuit breaker box in our garage… and it includes an additional line of defense: a whole-home surge protector. While I haven’t known anyone who lost equipment to a power surge or outage, I sleep better knowing the first likely won’t be us.

From my home office, I have a straight view out my window to the house across the street. Every Thursday morning, a blue Toyota Camry pulls up, circles our cul-de-sac and parks in front of it. Three women climb out, open the trunk, each take out a handful of cleaning items and go inside.

About an hour later, they walk out, put the materials back in the trunk, get in the car and drive away. From here, I don’t know where they go; however, my guess is it’s onto another house to repeat the same routine. Every day. Like clockwork. For many years.

During my training at the Disney Institute more than two decades ago, the facilitator told us the longest-tenured cast members at Walt Disney World Resort were housekeepers – at an average of 18 years. “As you ponder that,” he said, “think about what they do.”

Maybe we should spend more time considering how lucky we are that there are people who want to clean our toilets, teach our children, mow our yards, patrol our streets, serve in our hospitals, work our drive-throughs and do so many other jobs that make our lives easier.

Every day. Like clockwork. For many years. 

The world’s oldest person died this week. Kane Tanaka was born in Japan on January 2, 1903. What else happened that year?

The first west-east transatlantic radio broadcast from the U.S. to England occurred a few weeks later. Henry Ford raised $28,000 in cash and founded a motor company in June. The Wright Flyer took to the air at Kitty Hawk in December.

So her life spanned the first flight to the first crypto Super Bowl ads.

Meanwhile, last Friday my lifelong friend – and former producer during my television sports career – and I visited our now 87-year-old former director. He seemed in good health, although many pounds lighter than several decades ago. He did walk with a cane and got around well.

He also repeated the same story at least 20 times – and kept asking us if we ever worked with an announcer we all did many game with in the 80’s. When we showed him a picture of the three of us with another announcer, he didn’t recognize him.

The last thing he said to us – with a laugh: ‘The next time you see me, I’ll be in a coffin.”

It’s tough to see others age, especially those we love or knew when their minds were clear. There’s an old adage: ‘it beats the alternative;’ however, I’m not sure that being unable to remember things is a worthwhile quality of life. I tell our kids, “Just give me 85 and out.”

That feels a lot better than 119.