Woe Is Me

The little devil has returned. I am starting to feel soreness in my right wrist and in my palm - in the meaty flesh just south of the thumb. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is a little bastard. Generally, since I have been back in the colder climate of USA, I have noticed a remarkable improvement. This condition was killing me in Bangkok! The weather here, coupled with a more ergonomic work station, has given me lots of relief. However, just recently, since I began picking up my pace in e-mail advertising for Kade's cooking class and updating her blog, CTS has reared its ugly head. One way to combat the pain is obvious: I need to reduce my time on the computer. Another remedy in the past has been self-massage (or massage, period). I just hope that I can sidestep having to have the nerve clipped surgically. I've even heard that's not 100% effective and, in a few cases, creates even more devilish problems. Perhaps it's time for me to sip that miracle water or rub my sore spots with the green prayer cloth I received from some televangelists. Desperation has apparently already started kicking in.

Happy 2/10 Birthday, Uncle Jim!

Uncle Jim told me that upon reaching his 80th birthday he was determined to recognize only decades from that point forward. Therefore, I was not surprised when he e-mailed the other day to say his 2/10 birthday was arriving. Well, that's today. Happy Birthday! If you come up to Asheville, we will treat you to dinner at a sushi restaurant or pilaf diner. If you can't come up here, we will be making our way to Headland again at some point. That might be the time to pull out the rock salt we left on your doorstep our last visit. I've always loved the homemade peach ice cream you helped make at Lake Espy.

Dreams

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day across the land. I have to hand it to Dr. King. He had "things" that prevent lots of us from ever taking risks: a fabulous education, a loving spouse and kids, a roof over his head and a job that fed him and his family. Yet, Dr. King decided to take a stand for basic human rights. He was a real humanitarian and an American who stood for the country's core values. He took this stand with the complete awareness that he could indeed be assassinated. If only every human being had that amount of moral courage!

Being influenced by the teachings of Gandhi and Jesus, Dr. King employed a wide range of non-violent tactics that eventually helped end racial segregation and helped shed light on America's poor (of all races) . Sadly, and ironically, Dr. King's persistence and determination led to his violent, untimely death at the age of 39. I think of myself, and others my age (36), and wonder what kind of influence we can have in bettering the world around us.

I have always been a collector of quotes. And, I recall reading a compilation of Dr. King's quotes back in the early 90's. It was then that I thought more and more about the unspoken and spoken racism that still existed in my hometown. Blacks lived "across the tracks" or in the "nigger quarters."Eventually "nigger" became too taboo to say, but blacks then lived in the "quarters." I also wondered about my church and other churches where there were no black members. How did "God's children" reconcile this with the teachings of Jesus? This still puzzles me. Even today, there are those who bristle at the notion of honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Sadly, even one of my own family members, said, "Martin Luther King did no good whatsoever." Perhaps, though, this sentiment is further evidence of the real magnitude of the social change MLK helped usher in. In this sense, he was a John Brown or Buddha or Susan B. Anthony. These giants sought wholesale change at the risk of being killed. Their message was too unbearable for the status quo to accept, at least initially. What's indeed fascinating to me is that, when I do travel and meet people from other places, often Dr. King's name is brought up. There is alot of admiration for him around the world. He's our Gandhi, our Nelson Mandela, our William Wallace, our Joan of Arc, our Aung San Suu Kyi. Click here for the "I Have a Dream" speech

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEMXaTktUfA&feature=related

Rah Rah Sis Boom Bah

source

In the late 70's and early 80's, when I was rooting for America's team, I would always love thumbing through the latest Dallas Cowboys Weekly Newspaper.  Dad subscribed to it for me.  What a gift!  I got the paper for many years. 

Here's a book that Dad gave me.  I remember struggling to read it - it was just a little too advanced for my age then.  Eventually one year I did read it all, and enjoyed it.  I was a huge Staubach fan!

In time I hope to scan and share a Cowboys team photo that was autographed by most of the team.  This was when Danny White was QB.  And Dorsett was # 33.  I knew all the players, their numbers and their stats.  Through an Auburn relationship he had, Dad contacted Robert Shaw, who was a center for the Dallas Cowboys.  Shaw sent an autograph picture of himself, and the one of the entire team.  Dad had these framed, and then surprised me with on my birthday, I believe.  As a kid, it was one of my best gifts ever!

I can't help but hark back to January 10, 1982. My team, the Dallas Cowboys, was playing the San Francisco 49ers. The game was dramatic, a real nail-biter.  With under a minute remaining, Dwight Clark made a miraculous catch at the back of the end zone, pulling out a victory for the 49ers. I had to hear this news at church because, rather than let me stay home to watch the final quarter of the game, my mom "forced" us to to go to Church Training and the Evening Service at the First Baptist Church. Although I didn't voice it, it certainly bothered me.  Why couldn't I stay home to see the end of that game?!?  Believe you me...if there's a god, he/she was smart enough to be watching it!  Click here for a replay of the game.

My dad is the "brother Mark" here.  This is an old journal entry by Watty Espy of Headland, Alabama.

Back in the Saddle

That's me on the right and Dad on the left.  We were out enjoying the day in Headland, Alabama.