To walk a mile…

I am a firm believer in putting myself in someone else’s shoes.  In my opinion, the examples set forth from a Christian perspective should always be that of prestige and honor.  With that being said, I do not believe most individuals adhere to that kind of belief, including Christians.

 Putting yourself in another’s situation enables one to not only experience others trials but can prevent a very humanly intent to judge.  This is not a natural occurrence, taking work along with habitual practice to not let our selfish tendencies to take over.   

Taking this thought a step further, I do believe there are certain aspects that are real and can be universal through time and location.  It seems that no matter how much history we read or how the various international exposures we are subjected to, the love of a parent to her children is everlasting and remains strong.  This observation is seemingly with fault, as the over indulgence towards our children has brought about a very different variation. 

From my own standpoint, I do find it easy to put myself in someone else’s situation.  I want to so bad to show a compassionate and understanding heart to everyone’s situation and certainly not pass sentence on an experience that I have no clue about.  This was done through many years of judging and not giving anyone the benefit of bad luck or a second chance. 

Once again, I pride my Christian background and not placing judgment on another, just as Jesus did.  An unnamed Christian leader once said, “if it is going to be Christian, it should be better”.  I firmly believe this and want to carry it on to not judging others in this fashion.  There is a time for judgment, and no one on this earth is in that position.

Something I have likened myself to, sometimes to a fault, is the ability to be very observant.  I have this weird notion to “people watch” and notice little intricacies in things they say, their body language, and just get an overall impression of what they are like.  I sometimes even catch myself trying to analyze and try to assume the kind of person they are based on my observations.    

Of the many places I find particularly interesting to observe people is the beach.  The diversity and overall abundance of “odd” sightings is seemingly limitless.  One of my favorite activities is to lie in my lounge chair and see what passes throughout the day.  For me, this is what I call living!  Not only am I able to see many unusual sights, but I can hear conversations that make my ears perk up like radars. 

On my last such visit to the beach I noticed an unusual amount of interesting folk.  Some of the things I noticed were various older men in Speedos.  Unfortunately, this will be forever sketched in my retina and I wish I could forget.  Also, I noticed the many different nationalities that also enjoyed the pleasantries of the ocean, just as most of us do. 

Listening to the people gathered around me gives me the ability to peer into others lives.  The kinds of conversations typically consist of gossip, complaining, their children, and other topics that are better left unmentioned.   It is amazing the amount of negative things people say if there is a willing ear to listen. 

Another activity that interests me is when families engage in various sporting activities on the beach.  Occasionally I will notice some athletic individuals, but mostly there are out of shape people trying very hard to act like Olympic caliber athletes.  I find this amusing, in that, while they are not the best athletes they still engage in family activities that draw them closer together.

Evolution is a very broad topic, in which there is much controversy.  I had the rare privilege of going to both public and private school and could examine both sides of the argument.  For the sake of this essay however, I will focus my knowledge on evolution and what I remember from public schools. 

Going down memory lane in relation to evolution and Charles Darwin, the first thing that comes to mind is natural selection.  Essentially, every living being that we see today started from one simple organism.  The time frame is what sticks out mostly for me, in that billions of years are used to describe the overall evolution scale.  I can remember one of the first startling revelations was on the Galapagos Islands when Charles Darwin used finches as a prime starting point for his natural selection theory.  Within this theory Darwin was able to develop a “tree of life” in which it resembled a family tree with all life coming from one organism.  Natural selection happens all through life and makes it possible to pass various traits on.    

After reading Understanding Natural Selection, I have come to the understanding that no matter how much recollection I have of Charles Darwin, it could never touch the intricacies and eloquence that was portrayed in his writings.  Furthermore, my knowledge could never match the in-depth knowledge sketched from his many years of research.  I have very vague understandings from my limited studies and could never truly grasp the true complexities of his insightful experiences. 

With that being said, Darwin did indeed use his travels to mold his ideas of evolution and specifically natural selection.  Throughout this essay he describes the many examples of this bold and seemingly brilliant theory that go hand in hand.  For example, he notes the various creatures blending in to the environment to ensure survival.  He also tells how many animals have strengths that help them hunt and survive, like sight for birds of prey. 

So many things I have either forgotten or never knew.  I had grouped together natural selection and the premise of evolution, and while they are from the same idea, they are not devised together as one theory and the term is not used in this essay.  Darwin’s ideas were much deeper, but from his writings seem so simple.  One theory of natural selection I had been taught but over time forgot is sexual selection. 

Darwin makes a case for the strongest surviving.  He used the wolf as an example, illustrating how the wolf that was faster and stronger would be allowed to pass his dominating genes down, which in turn preserves the species as a whole.  I do remember this theory as something that was taught, but I could not remember the specifics involved.

What I needed was some reference, so I went to the bookstore to find some literature that could aide me in my endeavor.  I picked up a book by Cesar Millan, who is known worldwide for his ability to train dogs of all levels.  

First I had to prioritize what were the more important words.  Going off the lead of Millan, it was suggested that I start with the basics of “sit”, “come”, and “no”.  Without reading too much into the book I tried to use my own stubborn ways.  Basically, that was done by trying to force my poor dog into the sit position.  Over and over I tried this.  Over and over I would get very inconsistent results.  Sometimes Jack would sit, but most of the time he would not.  I tried this with other commands and unfortunately received the same result.  Poor Jack would look at me so confused as my frustration for my own shortcomings were taken out on him. 

As the days went on, I decided that a different approach would be the best route.  I had the book, so I read more to see what could be going wrong.  After reading several chapters I decided to train my boy with treats.  Why had I not thought of this before?

Changing my tactics helped not only my aggravation but also the way Jack responded.  Jack’s response was amazing and I was very proud of him.  Teaching him was very easy at this point.  I would hold the treat in the air and say the word “sit” in a firm commanding way.  As I said this I would gently push his rear towards the ground until he sat, at which point I gave him the treat.  Doing this over and over again proved beneficial and eventually he would respond without the enticement of that yummy treat. 

I did essentially the same thing with “come”.  I would make Jack sit and walk a few steps away.  As I would hold the treat, I would continue to say sit to ensure he would not move.  From there, I would say the word “come” in the same fashion as the previous technique.  Once again Jack caught on extremely fast.  Eventually, I was able to walk further and further away and get him to come at my command.

A True Story

I can remember as a youth the many times I would go hunting.  Sitting out in the fresh, cool morning air I would think about the many things going on in my life and sort through what was actually important.  It was such a peaceful time with such opportunity for reflection. 

What made this particular morning so great was the deer I killed.  I used all my hunting skills and techniques to lure him in.  I set up a wonderful blind so I would not be detected.  I also strategically placed buck lure in various places to draw a big one in. 

I heard the crashing in the woods.  I knew what was coming.  The big 10 point buck made his way to my position.  He stood in front of me as the sun was peaking over the horizon.   I slowly pointed my riffle into position and dropped the enormous deer with one shot.

What Actually Happened

The morning I woke up it was frigid and wet.  When I was sitting and waiting in the woods, all I could think about was how miserably cold it was that morning and when I should leave to go home.  I decided to stay a bit longer with the anticipation of what might be.

The tree I was sitting against was barely enough to hide me and my skills that I had were very new and unpolished.  I wasn’t a very experienced hunter and any success I may have should really be credited to luck. 

I did hear the deer crashing through the woods.  The buck made his appearance, but instead of the towering 10 points I had reported, he truthfully only had 6 tiny points and was actually rather scrawny.  I did shoot the deer, but he did not fall in one shot.  I had to track him several miles through the woods before I found him.

The actual bike I had was a BMX mountain bike.  You know the ones with the oversized knobby tires.  My friend Wayne Bowling had a very similar bike and we thought we were “it”.  The neighborhood we lived in was small, but there were a lot of children.  As we rode through the streets we would hold our chins high as if everyone was looking at us and our “cool” bikes.  This cockiness showed with the total reckless abandon and lack of respect towards our bicycles.  We would set up ramps and ride the roughest trails we could find.  Like most children, we gave little regard to our physical well being and always ended up with minor scrapes and bruises. 

On this particular day Wayne set up a ramp at the very bottom of a dead end.  One of the homes at the end of the street belonged to the Wells.  I remember this distinctly because of the well they had in their front yard.  Yes it was cute.  To add to the décor they had white wooden fence in the front yard.  Now what made this so interesting, and at the time life changing, was what followed.  Wayne and I would go to the top of the street and go as fast as we could in order to jump the ramp.  Time and time again we did this with the anticipation of going higher and faster with every jump.  Each time we went a little further we celebrated like we won the World Series.          

Finally, on what would be my last pass, I went a little bit farther down the street in order to get more speed.  Wayne had already had his turn and was waiting at the bottom of the hill to see how far I could actually get.  The anticipation in the air was thick.  I started out faster than normal.  I was pushing my little legs as hard and as fast as I could.  I had to get the farthest jump, one that Wayne could not compete with.  The speed I was going was almost scary, but I didn’t care.  I was approaching the ramp and the speed I was going would ensure a really long jump.  I rode over the wooden ramp and flew into the air.  Wow, I was so high and I was going so far.  The sensation was exhilarating. 

Now the next part is when it gets dicey.  As I landed and went to apply the brakes, I noticed I couldn’t push back on the coaster breaks.  Consequently I couldn’t slow down to stop.  This was not good.  I did not know what to do so I froze.  The only thing I could see was the pretty white fence approaching very fast.  I think I saw my life flash before my eyes.  Very quickly I hit the fence and instead of bouncing off of it, I actually went through it.  As I broke through the fence I simultaneously flew over the handle bars.  I hit the ground and the bike went tumbling with me.  I don’t initially remember any pain, but I can remember the thuds crashing sound.  I finally stopped.  I laid there for a moment .  I was alive.  Is this possible?  I looked back to ask for help from Wayne, but all I could see from him was his back as he fled.  What a friend!!!!

This was a very traumatic moment for me.  It changed the way I rode my bike.  It made me so much more aware of where I should ride my bike.  Also, I had to work off the damage I did to the Well’s fence.  What a summer day!

Growing up in strict, but loving Christian home, things could get dicey very quickly.  I was the third of four boys and we would always find ways to get into ‘things’.  It seemed that since my next older brother and I were closest in age, we were always competing and never minded the other taking the blame for something the other did.  This headlines my first short story. 

I was rather young and was learning to read and write.  We had just moved into a modest ranch home in Madison Heights, Virginia.  My parents were so proud of their new three bedroom home and the plans to expand the unfinished basement brought them much joy.  “Wayne”, my mother would start, “we can do so much down here”.  And over the next few months they did indeed add on to the basement.  A family room, a new bedroom, and a workshop for my dad all took form and we enjoyed the extra room immensely.  There was one space left unfinished that they weren’t really sure what to do to it.

During this time I started kindergarten and was perfecting my ABC’s.  I was actually getting rather good at them I might add.  Just to give an idea of me, I was this little blonde headed, snot nosed boy who was small – even for a kindergartner.  I was kind of shy, but made friends really easy.  I can remember a lot of the things I did then.  I loved baseball, I loved my wiener dog, Tippy, and I also loved watching television.   One show that was a particular favorite of mine during that time was The Six Million Dollar Man.  There were few things that captured my attention like Major Steve Austin. 

Now one specific show was when Sasquatch made an appearance.  Oh, the battle that took place.  At that time the special effects seemed realistic, and I seriously thought Bigfoot was real.  It was “spooky”. 

On that particular night, after the show, I was playing in the unfinished portion of the basement.  My dad left a can of black paint with a lose lid.  Like most five year olds, I was curious.  I opened the can and began to stick my fingers in it and touch a piece of paper.  The next idea that came to my mind I still cannot explain to this very day.  I remembered the Bigfoot show I had seen a short time before and wanted to scare my family.  I took a paint brush and painted a large foot on the floor.  Then, with the best of my ability painted, “Bigfoot was here”.  I laughed to myself and couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces. 

A day or two went by before it was discovered.  But when it did it wasn’t pretty.  My parents called all of us into the basement and lit into us like you wouldn’t believe.  What was interesting about this scenario was they weren’t fully aware of my writing capabilities and all at once discredited me from the vandalism.  My poor brother Mike took the heat for this one.  The spanking he got is still talked about in my family to this day.  I wanted to say something, but couldn’t.  I can remember him begging and pleading with no avail. 

It wasn’t until years later that I came clean.  Long after the threat of the same fate my brother endured.  There are life lessons to be told.  The most obvious was the lying aspect.  I did feel bad for my brother and knew I was doing the wrong thing.