New York City and its Endless Webs

New York City and its Endless Webs

I was in Manhattan last month when I heard the news: Stan Lee had died.

I believe that destiny made our trip that much better.

It was not the bad news that deaths can illicit normally, those events that are too often the tragic case when you first learn of the passing of person, unexpected or not. He was old; he was accomplished, he had lived a great and well known and lauded life. He had an impact on me, and many others now through the ubiquitous movies. X-Men. Iron Man. Avengers. On and on with the Marvel franchises.

I was a rather avid collector of Marvel comics as a teen. I still have them, decades later, hoping for a bounty of wealth in them. Money and art, and creativity. Stan Lee embodied New York, with the Webbed Crusader... And on and on.

And there I was, with my sons, in the heart of Gotham! Or, rather, New York City, where Spidey was the weaver of his fabulous webs. (DC and Marvel made this city more heralded in the imagination of millions, or billions: Gotham being a reference to the Caped Crusader, Batman.)

Serendipity, perhaps, for us.

I told my sons that this news was significant in hopes that they might always remember being in the streets of Manhattan right then, just when another confabulator (fabulist?) of the Big Apple was first known to have gone on to the next world.

For example, I was in Nashville, Tennessee when my family and I learned that Elvis had died. Close enough to Graceland to think that our proximity mattered. Certainly memorable. I was maybe six years-old then.

New. York. City.

You should go there. Pay your taxes, pay your dues. It's the modern Rome. Pax Americana. Get a feel for our shared humanity and engineering prowess. Get a feel for the pull and push of economic might and the rest of us who hang on sheerly to the cliffs of big money that we hope to not engulf us. That somehow will cushion us... Protect us from ruin. Our hopes lie there, like it or not. The United Nations Headquarters is there, too.

New York has the financial institutions and skyscrapers that lift and crush us, day to day, year to year. Through their intricate endless webs of accounts and markets, phone calls and Internet clicks.

The biggest city in the United States. The capital of the world.

17 plus years ago the terrorists attacked it for a reason. (We are at the end of 2018 now).

This grand metropolis has streets and networks and pipelines that never end. It has influence in investments, information, and news that never ends.

If you have never visited NYC you are missing out on something. I have never been to Paris, nor London, nor Rome, nor Shanghai or Beijing. I guess I am missing out on those.

I have been to Cairo and Mexico City. I used to live in Los Angeles.

Yet, New York, the Metropolis, is a place apart.

First of all, it is five boroughs, each with its own style and charm, then it continues beyond those, into neighboring states. Thousands of inlets and connecting communities.

The heart is the island of Manhattan, where I ended up briefly with my boys the second weekend of November. We did not stay long, but we saw a few things. And of course we were billed, a fate I thought we had avoided. (The traffic/toll ticket came in the mail a few weeks later).

Returning from Boston to the DC area, my last minute plan was to skirt the opposite side of Manhattan through the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and finally Staten Island, crossing the edge of New York Harbor on the Verrazano Bridge and seeing the Statue of Liberty from the side we normally would not see. We had approached from the Jersey side a few times before. And I was tired of crossing the Hudson to the north. I did it on the way up to Boston, and back and forth back in 2014.

The GPS (a digital map tracker, if you are not of our era or lingo) got us out of Bronx and over to Manhattan. By accident, (I wanted to go to Staten Island, the borough, though not notable in comparison, that I had not seen much of...) but not a bad trip all told. The news of Mr. Lee may have capped it off.

We cruised south along the East River, buzzed by Wall Street, crawled through streets of lower Manhattan. We saw the massive Freedom Tower and other notable city sights and sounds, peoples, some New Yorkers, some tourists, hustling and carousing the sidewalks... We got turned around once or twice, and meandered out the Holland Tunnel. It was longer than I remembered. We saw and noted a bit.

The webs of the Great New York. Tunnels, trains, awnings, sidewalks, side-streets, cause ways, boardwalks, plants, trees, sewers... The ever changing skyline. Rain or shine, night or day.

It doesn't sleep, but I have seen it sleepy. Droopy and under constant construction. How many police and garbage men run this town? How many maids and cooks run through its veins?

It has been growing and evolving since the foundation of the Republic. People of import, crazy street criers, news men and women, smelly homeless. The first Jew for Jesus that I ever met, handing me a pamphlet. Or rather, a Xerox copy of the message. I had never heard of such a thing.

New things and happenings in the Big Apple.

Now it has the Broadway "Book of Mormon". Sad irony, really. Joseph Smith sought the ancient writing expert Charles Anton here. Two centuries ago.

Tre Parker and Matt Stone, currently the modern prophets of raunchy truth, coarse nice feely good funniness and hilarity. Thanks for being such kings of New York, my chump brothers of foolishness.

The City is bigger than most of us.I first saw it in person in the 1980s. Back when the subways were still gritty and covered in graffiti.

We, my mother, and sister and I, first emerged on foot from Grand Central or Penn Station. 

Later in the 1990s my older sister and then my other sister moved there, compelling me and others to return. Part of it, this large conglomeration of vertical skyscrapers and expansive neighborhoods become somewhat homey to me. Familiar enough to know some streets, some doormen, some restaurants, some basketball courts and subway exits.

Another return visit in 1997 I was able to rise to the top of the World Trade Center. That would be the last time I observed Manhattan until 2002 when I saw it across the Hudson landing in the Newark, New Jersey Airport on a clear sunny day. After my dose of southern California, the visible missing skyline was sobering.

We had processed that fact for years. Now it is more emotional than physical, for most of us.

I have taken my children to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, I have taken them with my wife to the Memorial of 9/11/2001. We visited Central Park, trawled through Times Square.

New York, New York.

It's a whale of a town.

The inter-knit laces of its influence go beyond the region of the northeast, go beyond the borders of the United States. The plays, the shows, the movies, the styles, the executives, the bankers, the architecture.

The prices and allure, the hub bub and the attitude. The stories, the scenes, the lore...

The first time I visited we went by train, we tooks taxis; we saw Soupy Sales, an entertainment comic who was not really famous but a celebrity nonetheless. We attended our church near Central Park.

I have seen a few more celebrities since, or at least had close relations who have (Adam Sandler almost ran down my sister in his roller blades).

It's a city to visit, a price to pay. While I have enjoyed leaving there every time that I have gone, it is a place that we go to know the best and the worst.

To get entangled in the endless web of humanity on this beautiful planet. Harbor and rivers meet humanity among the steel, glass, and girders.

Enjoy getting wrapped up in this crazy web that we weave.

Enjoy New York. The City of Cities.

I Knew a Man from California that Served the Lord in Italy

I Knew a Man from California that Served the Lord in Italy

This man did a lot of other things besides serve the Lord in Italy. I also know many other people, men and women, who served their God and Church in Italy. And elsewhere.

This is a special tribute dedicated to this one person, and to those that knew him, and for those who are yet to know him.

I don't know that many details about his mission to Italy, but I know he went to Provo, Utah, to take classes morning, noon, and night to learn the Italian language, to be immersed in the culture and lives of the Italians that he would come to know and love for the next two years.

I don't know what year this man entered the Missionary Training Center, but I know that he was observed by those that were learning and teaching with him and to him. In two months of training he would pray with them continually. They would pray on their knees both in their classrooms and their shared dormitories. They would pray in English, especially in the Large Group Meetings that were convened for those that were learning other languages. Some of these meetings would have 2,000 or more young missionaries, like him, going to a land by plane to a place that they had perhaps never heard of, or at least had never contemplated inhabiting.

They would pray in smaller groups in their nascent Italian, which is a humbling experience, which is like you are three or four years old again, or it makes you feel like a parent teaching your children, if you happen to know the right words or phrases better than your fellow companions. Slightly older teachers were there at most hours to help guide you and teach you. These teachers were either native Italian (sometimes Swiss), or had lived in Italy themselves. I don't know for sure, but I am pretty sure this man headed to Italy to serve the Lord would observe these teachers astutely. At least one of them would impress him enough to see himself succeeding and prospering in Italy, like those who had gone on before. More importantly, the Spirit of God with which they shared the scriptures and doctrine of God would light a fire in this man and his fellow elders and sisters. As a former MTC president used to say, "I want you to go to bed at the end of the day tired. And: make it a celestial day!" I am confident that this man had many of those days and nights in the MTC. And there were many more to come a few seas away...

I don't know all the things this man was going through when he went on his mission, but I am reasonably sure that he missed some of his family, and would think of them fondly in spare moments. I am sure there were a few times where this man was touched by the Spirit enough to cry, maybe thinking about his loved ones that he knew all his life, or Jesus, the Beloved, or at least feel that amazing tug in the heart that made him know he was alive and in love with life, in love with the Gospel of Jesus Christ and His Kingdom on Earth. Grandiose feelings occur in such a place, and that is a feeling that is hard to describe. It can be overwhelming. I am not a hundred percent sure that this California guy felt these amazing feelings of joy, release, cleanliness, repentance, purity, love... But I bet he did.

And this was just in Provo! So like most of us who went to the Missionary Training Center, he was ready to go and be with the people. Teach people, learn to know and love the people of Italy.

Again, I don't know all the the places that this man as a young priesthood holder went to in Italy. He may have told me a time or two, or he may have recounted a bit of it in a talk or discussion. Suffice it to say, the language and the culture was amazing and different. Like a lot of us speaking and thinking in a second tongue, even a Romance language, it was an incredible way to develop the brain and the heart. Latin, that ancient language of the Romans and even Jesus Himself. The Bible had new significance and tenor. Some verses and stories made more sense. Together with the Book of Mormon and other scriptures witnessing the power and majesty of the creation of the world, the stories of the covenant tribes, the lives and achievements of the prophets, the coming of the Savior and His life and legacy, His death and Resurrection. The foretellings of the future, the eventual history played out of the Earth. Spoken in this masterful, historic, artistic, colorful language. What a way to ingest all of these topics! They sunk deeper into his soul.

Singing and chanting in this artistic tongue. The medium of operas and sonatas. A beautiful way to live.

I don't know the details of this and that, like many others will recall, but I am sure there were cities and panoramas that this California elder grew to cherish, that inspired him and caused him to dream. Dream of heaven and earth, dream of life and beauty, dream even of loss and pain. Italy has a Mediterranean climate, as does California, so there were familiar sunny days of dry heat and longer days and nights of rain and chill. Like many of us, Americans with creature comforts and luxuries to others, he would observe people with much less wealth, but happy and generous all the same. 

Italians were expressive and romantic, how not to be?

Then there was the art! And the churches, cathedrals! What a country!

"Magnificent" might be the right word when it came to the cultural heritage of these ancient Christian people. They were proud and humbled by their legacy, the capital of Christendom and the keeper of the ancient vaults. The history of the Holy Sees and the Universal church, the noble priesthood and mantle of Christ Jesus. The signs of the faith were everywhere, even in the way people used their hands and arms, and heads and souls.

As a bearer of the Good News of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in a traditionally Catholic country, well, the Catholic country, the message of the Restored Gospel was not an easy sell. No matter, in small gains testimonies and the faith grew. This young man was part of a rich tradition of its own, that by prophecy would grow and "confound the wise".

God had a plan and its order, and this man was part of it. Even his mission companions and others that he grew to know were part of it. It all fit, even though there were times of frustration and impatience for certain partners. It was bound to happen to have a few assigned companions that you did not see eye to eye with. Stay strong and prepare for the future, the Lord was in charge. Balanced with the elders that were like brothers from childhood, so tight were the bonds of trust and faith with some. And some members burned into his heart and his own.

It takes all kinds, that we confirm throughout the full time mission and later in life.

I cannot say for certain, but I am quite sure there were times in Italy when this young man would go to sleep hopeful and content, and assuredly the next day plans and commitments did not live up to those supposed expectations from the night before. Safe to say this was normal, and what some people say and swear to one day does not always live up to those levels of fulfillment the next. Life and people can be fickle, capricious. However, the Lord is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He knew this, He trusted in the Lord.

We learn day by day, week by week, transfer by transfer, that the Lord does not change, and we need to change for Him. The Gospel of Jesus can be difficult and challenging, but it is simple and constant.
It, He--does not change. Put your faith in Him, not man. "Be still, and know that I am God."

Like those of us blessed at such a tender age, this young man learned through trial and test, momentary decision and willing life course, that one who follows God and implements His program is happiest, is most fulfilled. He saw it, he felt it, he knew it.

He testified to those who would hear: Repent of your sins, posit faith in the Lord, worship Him, take His yoke upon you, take His body and blood into your mind and spirit. Be alive in Him and through Him. He lived this, and saw it in others.

He testified of an all-loving Father in Heaven, a Son sent by Him to save mankind, to save us from ourselves, the Holy Ghost that confirms their undying love, that comforts and guides. He taught and preached of a young man who questioned them directly, and lo! he received an answer! And much more.. Golden plates, angelic visits, seer stones, temple constructions, Saints migrating, missionaries sent across the oceans, God's pattern continues.

Yes, a tough sell. But worth it.

Thinking across the centuries, and maybe further, this young man with a royal surname was tracting in, traipsing across, and tracing the steps of perhaps the greatest Christian missionary ever, Paul of Tarsus. The earth and lands where Christianity took root and flourished, this is where the message and mission of Christ came to the fore. And it would again. Years later in marriage and buttressed with his own children this older young man would learn of the Prophet's declaration for a temple in none other than Rome. The land of the labyrinths and Colosseum, of St. Peter's and the centuries of rule, it was meant to have its own restored temple of God, with the true and everlasting altars to seal himself with all others, the royal heavenly family.

He had done this, he had seen this, he had felt this. He had served the Lord, in a mission of two years, in steps and choices that would pave the way for himself, his future, his eternity. It led to so much more later in his life, touching the lives of others.

How many Italians knew him, noticed him, spoke to him, waved to him? We don't know, hard to tell.

It flashed by in a blink of an eye.

I don't know if there were times for this returned missionary, like me, where he might wake up on a random day and wonder: did that really happen? Did I really live there? Did I really speak and sing in that language? Did I walk where the saints and martyrs walked? Did I breathe the airs of the ancient seas?

Sometimes we need photos or letters to reassure us.

Did I really feel with no uncertain overpowering impression that life is forever, that love is eternal, that God in Heaven is my absolute sovereign and commander, and that His Son Jesus has redeemed me from the blight of eternal torment?

Yes, this happened.

This happened to a man from California who went to Italy, a badge placed on his chest.

A badge proclaiming his sacred title, his honorable family name, and the organization of which he represented, as a true emissary of the Kings of Kings. And His Bride, the Church in His name.

During my mission in South America, my dear mother sent me an article of a missionary that entered a humble, yea, a poor and rundown house in far off Italy (In the Church News circa 1990-91). That elder came to the sublime realization that even in the poorest of lairs, where dirt is the floor and water is difficult to procure, that the King is present in His castle, settled upon His thrown. Having lived in a relatively wealthier part of Latin America and having visited Spain, it had not fully occurred to me that Italy had pobreza so late in the twentieth century. Poverty and want.

Alas, we are all beggars, we all need the succor and aid of our Big Brother, our Messiah, our Anointed One. We are all destitute without him. We need Him. We owe Him, and he pays our debt.

I cannot tell anyone for certain, and I cannot presume that I know for myself what another knows and feels, but I am compelled to declare: this Californian in Italy knew all these things.

And yes, while I did not know him as well as I might, I know that he knew these things.

And, our friendship went by too fast here on this planet, in this century, but it was like the times of Lehi, or the short years of Joseph Smith, and my mission, our missions to the spiritually poor. We had a chance and small lifetime to preach redemption and freedom.

To assure others that the family of God is eternal and we will live to see it all again. Nothing is lost, all the good is gained.

Thanks for going to Italy. Thanks for doing so much more. Thanks for reminding me of who I am, of who we are. Thank you for representing Christ there, and here, and beyond.

I look forward to exploring the caves and works of that great land one day.

Thanks for doing your part to establish a temple of God there.

Thank you for sealing yourself to your immediate family, and inheriting the privileges and blessings of your greater lineage, the eternal greater family of our Father, and Mother, and brothers and sisters.

Thank you for that, and for all the other things I cannot recount nor know.

I can however, have these inklings of what you did, how you did it, why you did it, and who you are.

And we are better, even in untold ways, for having been that close to you.

We serve the Lord and live. In every time, in every place.

My brother, again: I thank you so much. We are so blessed.

Syria and Arabs in the 21st Century

Syria and Arabs in the 21st Century

Syria has been in the headlines a lot in the last 7 years; this past week Syria has come to the forefront again. Today is December 25, 2018. A big day for Christians worldwide, a weird economic and political time for the United States. And as perpetually, a tough time for Arabs to figure out who and where they are. Many Arab Christians, a small but significant minority in many current Arab nations, are fearful for their survival now and into the future.

President Donald Trump arbitrarily (that's my description) announced the removal of U.S. militarily troops from the country, summarily (my word again) declaring victory over the Islamic State of Iraq and As-Sham, ISIS, the 2014 caliphate arising from militant jihadi extremists of war torn Iraq and its neighbors.

Hmmmmm. The jury is out on that one.

The Arab lands have gone through much, much, much, upheaval and tumult over the last century. Map carving during and as a consequence of the epochs of World Wars I and II did their share of defining current borders, much of which were forced by Western minds and powers. Natives of those countries have struggled to find their places ever since.

The United States and other powers have had their impacts on the regions, both the Middle East and Arab Africa all of their modern existence. The US has been the planetary superpower for generations. With that power comes accountability and responsibility, something that the US presidents have done since Thomas Jefferson fighting the Barbary pirates, to Roosevelt sending troops to Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, and Libya, to the more recent escapades in Iraq and the Gulf. 

Not to forget about the goings on of the Suez Canal in the 1950s, the creation and battles of Israel,  the Marine disaster in Lebanon in 1983...

And now Syria.

Russia became a game changer when they went to the military aid of a losing Bashar al-Assad regime in 2015; Kurds and Turks and their endless conflict complicate the picture in northern Syria. Iran and its Iraqi proxies further complicate Syria.

So, do Russia and Iran now claim greater Syria for their own victorious claims?

That is one real fear. 

We understand that we, the US and its allies, do not want to waste valuable lives and money on lost causes. But is this how we see the divided Syria now?

Won? Safe? Nothing is secure where terrorists, and foreign armed adversaries roam.

Where we had plans to stamp out the worst of the militant jihadis dedicated to the destruction on the West and moderate Muslims, suddenly we are leaving.

The Arab world is already divided and fractured in ways that are both physical and emotional. 

Yemen is in shambles. Libya is divided, and largely lawless. 

Somalia, marginally Arab, has been 3 countries for almost 3 decades.

Palestine is not content; Israel's continued presence in occupied territory is a constant threat to the safety of all.

Extremists abound. On the other side of Iran, Afghanistan has its extremist issues...

They are not Arabs. But they suffer from the same symptoms of the Arab world:

Define a border, a government, a way of life, and try to prosper.

It's not happening today.  

The United States has priorities which affect how it deals in its policies with the whole world and the nations that are Arab, focusing on this specific region.

1. To protect its citizens.
2. To allow free trade and commerce.
3. To enforce laws and rules that allow the proper compliance with these priorities.

Part of the concern in protecting US citizens is so much instability in lands across the world that there is too much demand for foreigners to come to our country as refugees. There is also the freedom to travel and live across the world. 

Syria has become a no-go zone, as has Yemen and Libya. Other parts of the Arab world are far from hospitable. Saudi Arabia has proven tough to deal with due to issues of free speech and freedom of harsh rules and rulings.

The United States needs to improve its conditions in all aspects, but this is easier said than done.

Leaving Syria to the others that are there? Not sure that is the right course...

We were not leaving many injured or killed behind of our troops.

No easy answers. 

BYU Football Progresses in Year 3 of Sitake

BYU Football Progresses in Year 3 of Kalani Sitake

The Bigger Picture is What Matters to the School and Its Supporters

1.  The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has, since its inception in 1830, been a bold proclaimer of certain large messages. Apart from its claim of authority and proper priesthood restored on the earth, which throws down a gauntlet to all other organized religions, there is the Christian imperative to:

2. Repent and sin no more! To urge and encourage all people to live up to high moral standards that the Savior would have us live, according to the moral laws of the Church, and the Lord who runs it. This is different than any other college or university, especially in the 21st century. No premarital intimate relations, no tobacco or alcohol, no cursing or radical hair styles...

Therefore, the flagship school of the Church embodies what the faith espouses; the football team is a very public part of that mission and effort.

Since 1922, prophets and presidents, apostles and general authority educators of Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, have started and then supported the BYU Cougar football to represent the school and its values. By the 1970s the team became a factor in national rankings and bowls.

Since the retirement of legendary Hall of Famer LaVell Edwards in 2000, three different coaches have had their chances to continue the success of the team that achieved the national championship in 1984, a feat causing multiple fissures and cracks throughout college football that has had its effects up until today (2018).

The newest head coach, the first Tongan football head coach in the United States, took over in 2016 and led his first team to a respectable 9-4 record. Season two went upside down when the Cougars finished an embarrassing 4-9, their worst record since the 1950s. Sitake was under a hot microscope.

Year 3, this 2018 season, was a big deal.

By losing 4 close games in close fashion, mixed with some good wins (Arizona and Wisconsin), it was left for the end of the season bowl game for the then 6-6 Cougars to come out winners or not.

And they did, thankfully, having a great third quarter and crushing the Western Michigan Cowboys 49-18.

7-6 overall, progress noted and second losing season averted.

Next season will open with really tough teams and opponents, including starting with arch rival Utah; the Utes that BYU almost beat this year and has not beaten in 8 straight competitions, despite close finishes almost every time. Many Cougar fans and critics are heartened and hopeful that many Sitake youthful recruits and returnees will have the power and skill to handle themselves against the likes of the Pac-12, a conference that spurned BYU in including as part of their expansion 8 years ago. The exclusion may possibly have been based on religious reasons. 

We will see what will happen on the field.

As far as what the Church of Jesus Christ declares through its university football team and its leadership and players, the message is the same: we value clean and Christlike lives. We expect our men and women to be awesome ambassadors of both sport and purity. Cleanliness and morality as we believe it should be.

Like Army, Navy, and Air Force (the Knights, by the way, just finished a fantastic season), there are other priorities at play with BYU. Cadets at the U.S. military service academies are expected to be trained warriors to fight for their country, to serve the president and defend the Constitution. This is an added burden to accomplish while running against men and women who are civilians, looking to make a buck or serve in their respectful fields of work as non-military.

Cougars have the burden of Christ, which Jesus says Himself that it is "light".

There are other religious affiliated schools, but they do not require the same enforced standards of living like Brigham Young. Notre Dame, Texas Christian, Southern Methodist, Boston College: they have their allegiances to the Higher Power and their denominations, but I am not aware of much more commitments to a written Honor Code other than attending additional church services. Maybe I am wrong.

Winning shows that we can do it. Serve a higher Master, live His laws as best as possible, repent of the sins that we commit, and play with a pigskin on the rugged grid iron, and win.

Whether you and others believe in the principles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, that is your prerogative.  Whether you believe in the missions of the U.S. Army or others, the liberal aims of Stanford or UC-Berkeley, or the University of Miami or wherever, fine. We can agree to believe the same or disagree.

BYU. Football team.

It's fun to watch, but it definitely is a statement of belief. 2018 ended up being a decent demonstration of that ethic.  We shall see how it goes for Kalani and his young men in the future.

Go Cougs. See you in 9 months, Utes. I respect your returned missionaries. I respect your school.

The Cougars will keep doing its thing, which will be your on the field nemesis. But not off it! May it ever be so, and may good sport continue to flourish in the state of Utah.

Alas, Terry Hutchens! You Knew Me Well

Alas, Terry Hutchens! You Knew Me Well

A man of 60 years passed away this week. I never met him. Yet, he knew me, and I believe he knew me pretty well. With his passing, part of me and another group of devotees and fans have lost part of ourselves. However, he left a lot. He was a writer. The love for those passions that he espoused will continue.

Terry Hutchens wrote about Indiana University basketball, and football, and Indiana athletics. He wrote about more than the Xs and the Os of the sports. He wrote about people; he wrote about ourselves. He was a pro's pro, probably the best.

That may not register as significant for many people, but it does for me. And, as us native Hoosiers like to say, "Every where else it is college basketball. This is Indiana." Terry Hutchens was at the forefront of what we loved and lived for.

Terry Hutchens, or "Hutch", as he was known, was a formidable part of being a Hoosier.

Identity is hard to qualify and quantify; I know I have many identities: I am a father. I am a husband. I am a church goer. I hold the priesthood of God. I am a professional in the work place. I am part time soldier for my country and state. I am an American. I am a Spanish speaker. I am an aficionado of languages and foreign cultures. I am guy who likes sports, from baseball to the Olympics. I am an active participant in some sports. I am a reader. I am a watcher. I am a conversationalist. I am a writer.

In my core DNA, I am a Hoosier fan. It seems to keep my blood flowing. It is not that I do not want to spend time with my wife or kids or buddies or church members, colleagues or neighbors -- but when the Hoosiers are on the court or field, there is another pump pumping. It's just that that is where my heart is when the game is on.

I hope you understand. This is who I became. I cannot always explain it myself. But in Indiana, this love makes us all the same: black, white, rich, poor, no matter what religion or background or philosophy. Democrats and Republicans and Communists, we all bleed Hoosier red. We are one through this sport and school. This is our faith and practice. A unifying force, hard to measure but real. Only Purdue Boilermakers or Notre Dame Irish make us question our home state loyalties. OK, Butler has been a recent thing, too. But Indiana at Bloomington is still the standard of the state.

Near or far, Indiana sports resonate with me. When I have gone far away to other countries and far off climes, Indiana sports beckons to me and connects me back to my home. Sometimes I would go months or years without the direct contact or observance of the teams. I long for those lost times when I did not see the Hoosiers fight, compete. It is tricky to explain. People like Hutchens were able to re-connect me to it.

Indiana basketball and football, and even other IU sports, bring me back home.

Thanks, Terry, for sharing. Thank you for building part of that identity for me and others. For keeping me a Hoosier. We feel passionate about the basketball and football and other sports. They are parts of who we are. It is our identity, and certainly figures like Bob Knight made it so. Or made the passion stronger. The quest for the beauty of the fight.

Hemingway had bull fighting and fishing. Steinbeck had sharecropping and vagabondery. Jack London had dog mushing and animal fights. Rowling had quiddage. Tolstoy had ballet. Great for the Russians!

Texas has football, the gridiron variety. Brazil and Argentina have futbol,  the world variety. South Asia has crickett. California has surfing and volleyball.

Natively raised Indiana folk have basketball. It is pure agony, ecstasy, and elation.

It ain't much, but it is poetry in special moments. Which could happen the next time the ball is in-bounded. 

I once wrote an online comment to Terry around 2005, back when the successor to the legendary Hall of Famer Robert Montgomery Knight Mike Davis was battling to keep the team good and stay at the job. I questioned if Terry was "really a Hoosier fan"? I am not sure if he replied to me, but I feel like in the last thirteen years he changed in his tone towards the Hoosiers. He did become a homer for the Hurry'n Hoosiers, which is the only way to be if you are within the bounds of southern Indiana. 

I know Hoosier fans across the country and the world, from Utah and California, to New England and Florida and the Bahamas. Basketball, at its best, is supposed to be played there. It is the Aristotelean "good". The ideal. That is what we cheer to see. A slice of perfection. Embodied in a leather ball and its purveyors.

The end of 2018 brought some interesting things culminating around Indiana basketball, perhaps apropos to the life of Terry and his meaning to Indiana basketball.

• ESPN TV released a very interesting (they all are) 30 for 30 special called "The Last Days of Knight". If you watch that show, you will learn a bit about the General's legacy and meaning in Bloomington. You might learn something about yourself, and you likely will learn a few things about me. At age 14 my Massachusetts cousin asked me if I liked Coach Knight. My answer was mixed, and so are the feelings we share about Coach ever since.
• Eric Anderson, former IU star and one of the last players to reach the Final Four, died at the precocious age of 48. I am his age; he was there on campus with me. Or I with him, even two years spent in South America. He handled the court for me. Hutchens wrote poignantly about him. Of course he would, but 5 other former ball players who have died too young.
• The current IU basketball team beat four decent teams by a combined 8 points, never having been done before in the history of the program. The hopes are that the current Hoosiers are clutch. The squad, with second year coach Archie Miller, a savvy all-conference senior Juwan Morgan, and two special freshmen ballers (Langford and Phinesee), has made the top 25. Where they belong.

By the time I was 5 years old Knight made himself an icon in Indiana. He reached perfection in 1976. It was never entirely perfect thereafter, as life never is.

But IU basketball has been enough.

A banner in the rafters of Assembly Hall means all the perfection you need. Knight did it three times in 11 years. We thought he would achieve a fourth, but his own protégé from Army and later Bloomington years before, Mike Krzyzewsky at Duke, would impede those efforts.

Knight made us hungry for it, because we knew what it feels like to win March Madness; we grew to expect it.

As a writer, Terry Hutchens was the consummate professional of writing: telling stories, explaining the identity of the teams and their leaders, their triumphs and miscues.

Terry showed us the drama, the struggle, the life of our on-the-court and on-the-field heroes. 

They were us. Ourselves. Winners, losers, competitors, strivers, men and women of victory and defeat. Effort, dedication, focus, and determination and discipline led to glory and joy.

Terry went out a winner. He succeeded on and off the court.

The car accident that led to his death was a mistake we have all made. He failed to stop in time exiting a ramp that would connect to the interstate that led to no other place than Bloomington, Indiana.

I have done it, you have done it. There for the grace of God we all have survived those mistakes to live another day. Terry succumbed to the wounds of that crash this week. Like a powerful man among peers, he left a legacy of success and achievement regarding the craft of writing and sports. Living life, giving and caring. He was certainly a driven person who gave and taught and mentored.

Sports writing is an art. The passion for the sports is a sublime gift-- at times taken to the extreme, yes.

But you have to know where your heart is, and for many of us, that vital tender organ is found when the lights spring on and the clock and ball are put in play.

Live on Terry Hutchens and Hoosier fans. 

The games will continue, even without its best heralded voices.

Because life is about competing and striving, and Terry did this and more.

Never daunted, we cannot falter
In the battle, we're tried and true
Indiana, our Indiana,
Indiana we're all for you! I-U!

Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, buuuuuuuummmmm!

I-U !!!

Yes, Terry, you are a true Hoosier. We celebrate life, with you, and our collective identity forever.

Thanks for knowing me that well.

Celibacy and Chastity: Both Work for Good; Don't Get them Confused

Celibacy and Chastity: Both Work for Good; Don't Get them Confused

Keuschheit und Zölibat haben ihre richtige Zeit und ihren richtigen Platz 

There are moral standards regarding human sexuality that are worth striving for and maintaining. 

I did not make up these rules. I learned about them from others. And I believe them.

Mankind-- humankind has standards and goals for human relationships.

Friendships, alliances, associations, family, bonds. Proper networks and channels of relationships, individually, collectively-- all of them work for us or against us. I am now informing you about the higher laws of sexual relationships.

All relations are key to our survival and progress. The better relationships and bonds are better.

Hence, the need for both celibacy and chastity, when it is the right time and place.

Chastity is a constant good state or status that we must all strive for. Sometimes this requires celibacy. But  celibacy and chastity to do not always equate. This is a great lie.

Men and women must procreate and have children. Doing this sexually within the bonds of matrimony is chaste, wholesome, pure. Those who have impugned this act as a sin are deceiving millions.

For centuries.

Celibacy will lead to marriage. This is perceived as difficult and unnecessary but it is true. 

Being pure through our relationships is key to making things right.

Do your best to live this way. It's the best way. 

Failure Defines Us; Regrouping from It

Failure Defines Us; Regrouping from It

I think that we all fail every day. Most of the failures are not noticeable or notable. Some failures are obvious and large, having an impact beyond the moment of that particular failure.

In our lives we take formal and informal tests. Some of those are on paper, many are physical.

Most tests require mental acuity, reason, wisdom, or knowledge.

Hopefully our failures do not cost the lives of ourselves or others. These are drastic failures.

Most of my life that is a dreaded outcome; to get someone killed, people that you are supposed to live and let live or protect. To avoid that result,  by what most normal people define by successfully avoiding drastic mistakes or failures, one must be diligent and lucky.

But it happens.

I do not think it has happened to me. I hope not.

We all know people who have taken their life, some of whom we had a stake in their life; I do not think I am to be included in those passings. I hope not.

No stupid highway or other accidents have befallen me, or those that I care for or steward. I know a few where that is the case. Tragic accidents and hard to avoid mishaps.

Failures come more frequently to some than others. Some tests are more tangible, such as job opportunities lost and interviews and the application process.

2018 has provided some tests and failures for me.

I tried to avoid failing. I will regroup, I believe. I will continue to advance, to grow, to learn, to adapt and overcome.

I am not defined by my failures, but I am marked by them.

Like scars on the body and in the mind that leave indelible traces. Some scars are ugly and lasting, at least visually and within the psyche.

Thus it ever was.

Move on.

BYU Football Fighting for Its Existence, Relevance

BYU Football Fighting for Its Existence, Relevance

It's rivalry week. Utah thinks that they don't want to play their intra-state rival anymore. Especially the Saturday before their conference final.

BYU is 6-5, Utah is 8-3. Both have done good things this season and both have had some heartaches. Both will go bowling. Utah State, the smaller school Aggies of the north, is the highest ranked. (Go figure).

The Utes. Some of us think that they think they are  above the private school 49 miles to the south. Yes, we Cougars are a pesky thorn in their plans for PAC-12 conference relevance. They have to play us before their coveted conference championship, the same conference BYU fought and sacrificed for for many decades to be a part of, and was rejected by when Utah was invited. Years back, there were other times, when BYU was winning a national championship making the Inter-Mountain West relevant. Long before Fresno State or Boise State became big. People thought a religious school, an obscure place with obscure outdated rules like no drinking or pre-marital conjugal relationships before matrimony was a fool's errand. Hundreds of young men proved otherwise.

And those standards have remained. And they will. Some say BYU cannot get enough young athletes to abide by such peculiar old fashioned standards.

Some Utes and others may think that BYU prevents them from national relevance.

Not so. USC deals with Notre Dame. Look what they do. USC is big time program. No complaints.

Utes, get used to it. 

BYU will always be there as your rival. 

If you do not recognize that, then you will slide from national relevance.

 So, good luck this Saturday, and good luck down the road. I hope you do great, really. I love the state of Utah, your coach, and tons of your students and alumni.

Slight future scheduling of your religious brother down south at your peril.

BYU has higher standards, pays its personnel less, has tons of returned older missionaries like you do,  and has lots of in-state and national and international fans.

We are not better than you. Brigham Young football is not morally superior, just different.

Like Air Force or Army or Navy Academies, BYU plays to a different standard.

And Utah, this is part of who you are. It's your identity.

If you dink out of the rivalry, you will be left behind. Don't do it.

Again, best of luck. Get ready to play. Don't forget who you are.

BYU football fan and alum,

Eduardo

Hoosier Basketball Analysis: 5 Games In

Hoosier Basketball Analysis: 5 Games In

First of all, a shout out to this incredible looking Duke team this year: they lost tonight to Gonzaga. It came down to the last possessions as Gonzaga led most of the way. Way to go, Bulldogs! Now I hope that BYU can knock off a top notch Zag team, like in years past. Oh, and Maybe Indiana can play with these Blue Devils...

IU has a lot of promise, but some things are unsure for now. Archie Miller is considered good enough to make them a good enough team. We shall see. We. Shall. See.

I'll analyze the players individually, then put it together.  

1. Juwan Morgan, 6'8" athletic senior forward. He is a superb player who wins games; he will be a professional next spring. He can play great inside. He can hit three pointers. One weakness that I have seen this year and from last year, when he was their best player on a team to qualify for the NIT: free throws. He is not going to get all the FT points that the Hoosiers need in tight games. He will draw the fouls, however. Speaking of fouls, IU may not have enough quality big bodies to keep Juwan rest and foul trouble free. Which also has to do with IU's health, which now in game 5 is really bad. Too many dinged up dudes.

2. Romeo Langford, 6'6" everything  freshman shooting guard. Biggest home grown recruit since Cody Zeller around 2010. We have to have this guy. By the end of the year he will be better than Juwan, and maybe more clutch. He has played pretty good defense, and his threes and free throws need some work, but this should come. He is a natural and will be done after spring 2019, so IU needs to ride him and he them to the end of March. Hopefully.

3. Robert Phinesee, 6'0" freshman point guard. This kid is poised and can play. He proved that he could hit a key three on the close road loss to a pretty impressive Arkansas squad. He can control the ball, pass and hustle. Very cool. He seems to be about perfect. Time will tell.

4. Aljami Durham, 6'4" sophomore guard/forward. He might be the X-factor. He seems much improved from last year, and last year he was not bad. He hurt his back and left the game early last night, but he should recover and contribute a lot.

5. Justin Smith, 6'7" sophomore forward. Extraordinary athlete. Can do a little of everything. I really hope he matures and channels his talents. He could be a big reason the Hoosiers do well. Or not. Like Juwan, needs to improve his free throws, and probably go to the line more. He needs to dunk more, based on his unworldly jumping ability. (48 inch vertical, 6 inches higher than anyone else ever at IU. And he's tall).

6.  Evan Fitzner, 6'10" senior forward. He can shoot the three, but seems a bit weak and skinny. Hopefully gets stronger throughout the year. But, he is a senior, so will he fill out much this late in college. He seems pretty smart inside, too. Good addition.

7. Deron Davis, 6'9 junior forward/center. He has good inside presence but is a bit slow and less than explosive. His achilles injury from last year seems to be lingering into November. Currently hurt.

8. Devonte Green, 6'3" junior point guard. He has talents and skills that good do much for the team: energy, depth, hopeful intelligence and poise. Currently hurt.

9.  Zach McRoberts, 6'6" senior guard/forward. Red-shirt senior. He is savvy and seems to be in the right place at the right time. Shoots more confidently now. Currently hurt.

10. Damezi Anderson, 6'7" freshman forward. This guy, if developed right, could be a huge difference. He hit a key 3 late in a tight game against a lesser opponent at home last night (UT-Arlington); if he gets smart on the court maybe he will be part of the Hoosier depth and success.

11-13. Race Thompson, Jake Forrester, Jerome Hunter. Three young guys that may provide some depth and muscle. Mostly currently hurt.

14. Cliff Moore, 6'11" sophomore center. Can be an inside presence; showed some aptitude to getting buckets. 

The team has a lot of injuries in November, but as the Coach said, this has given some young guys some early experience on the court and as a team.

Very impressive performance at home versus a tough Marquette team, a close loss where Arkansas showed some grit and hustle away from the friendly confines, and tough resistance win against a very scrappy team from Texas. With starters leaving with back aches and bloody noses. 

This team might develop into something special.

We play Duke in a week. We shall see. 

New Long Term Goal: Antarctica (Free Asia Bibi)

New Long Term Goal: Antarctica

I have new long term end of life goals.

 
Can you read...? Sorry. Experimenting with font and script colors...

  Ok, my red color for the Hoosiers beginning their championship season tomorrow. Romeo Langford and Juwan Morgan et al. Update: 1-0. Decent start.

Goals:

I wish to be the first centenarian to live a whole winter in Antarctica. That would be around 2070 plus.

Some time later I would probably like to die and be buried there.

Things can change, sure. Death can come with many options.

A great man, husband, father, mayor, soldier, officer, church member, person, just tragically died in Kabul, Afghanistan over the weekend.  He was 39. No promises.

Thankful for his service and example.

Great example.

So if God grants me another half century, I might make it at to my goal.

And do something that would have a benefit beyond my own life, to serve and bless others.

I would set up interviews or something.

The future will tell. 

Oh, yes: free Asia Bibi. She certainly deserves life and dignity.

https://www.realclearreligion.org/articles/2018/10/22/the_metoo_movement_has_forgotten_asia_bibi.html

  

My Heart Break Hoosiers-- They Find a Way

My Heart Break Hoosiers-- They Find a Way

To Lose. Again. It's not financial ruin or famine or catastrophe or war. It's Indiana football. Losers most of the time. It should not matter much, but it is hard when you care. Like me.

Last night, it happened again. The Indiana football team was on the road, they had more seasoned veterans against the youthful and down on their luck Golden Gophers. IU was considered to be the winning pick by the Fox1 professionals touting the Friday night match up, estimated to win by a touch down by all of them. These are smart guys, former coaches and Heisman winners. I was set and watching every minute. However: no, they don't know how Indiana football performs. Or chokes. As they did end up doing by the last minute of the game on this cold rainy night. Again. Minnesota had been crushed last week by a very struggling Nebraska squad. IU had played Penn St. tough enough to win the Saturday before. Both teams going in different directions? The Gophers had more key injuries.

Even the he rain probably helped the Hoosiers more in Minneapolis.

IU moved the ball the first half decently, but ended up with 3 field goals for a measly 9 points. One FG came after 3 downs and done subsequent to a fortuitous turnover by the home team. But the HOOSIERS could not move the ball! Meanwhile the never played before D-1 Minnesota back up QB Tanner Morgan picked the Hoosiers apart for 21 points. Down by 12 at the half. This was a pretty poor start but correctable.

It got worse in the 3rd quarter, then trailing the hometown heroes 31-9. I was in despair. They probably had a better crowd than what IU fans would provide in Bloomington. Typical. Minnesota was 3-4, IU 4-4.

We--ahem, IU had the Penn State Nittany Lions beat just last week! We outproduced them! But lost on special teams play. What was going on with these guys?

Do I sound defeatist? Like a pessimist? Let me take you back down some of my memory lane...

I remember following some IU football back to the 1970s. I fully recall Indiana playing the vaunted Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints school Brigham Young in the crazy Holiday Bowl of 1979. I was eight. It was a big party occasion at the Wankier/Gilchrist home. Little did I know then how much I would devote myself later in life to either program. I am became quite ensconced by 1983 or so. I am devotee of both teams: the often hapless Hoosiers and the more than often gritty BYU Cougars.

Maybe it all started for me in 1979? Maybe it will go on for me till 2079, but I digress... 

We cannot know the future. Maybe Indiana will go back to Rose Bowl some day? Not for now, assuredly...

IU had its first bowl win over BYU in 1979, a harbinger of less to come. BYU went on to greatness in the early eighties, while my hometown Hoosiers also did have a decent run from the late 1980s to the early 1990s by going to six bowls in 8 years. Then the train derailed by the mid 1990s, until once in 2007 when they rallied for a dead coach Terry Hoeppner (all respect to him and his loved ones), a formerly fired coach who got them to two bowls that they lost (Kevin Wilson), but were highly competitive in them two and three years ago (2015, 2016).

Enter the current second year coach Tom Allen, who has emphasized defense.

Not enough so far, that is for sure.

Otherwise, we beat Penn State last week, we beat Minnesota last night. 

We would be 6-3, on the way to a bowl, no matter the last 3 games in November of this year.

Now, they all matter, most likely to a resurgent Purdue (despite them coming up short to Michigan State over the weekend). Maryland should prove as tough as last year, when my wife and I watched IU lose a shoot out in College Park, mostly on dumb IU errors. We saw IU barely beat Rutgers (there is a really struggling program) a few weeks ago in Piscataway. Yet, historically, Rutgers has seen more success and bowl seasons than Indiana.

It is relatively easy to qualify for a bowl game nowadays. Just go 6-6, and occasionally 5-7. Even 5-7 looks hard now for my hard pressed Hoosiers.

Ugh.

My Hoosiers, sounds too much like losers. Do I have to resort to only the basketball team as thousands of native Hoosiers have already done over the long, trying decades?

No. This team can still win.

I don't know if they will, against the Terrapins, the Wolverines, the Boilermakers, who look like world beaters after crushing number 2 Ohio State.

Ugh, I care too much.

Go IU: fear the Turtle, take care of the ball. And win.

I saw them beat Michigan and Ohio State in the same year. We can do this.

I pray that Tom Allen keeps them coming. IU will break some others' hearts. Other than our own, my own.

Yes, I am not a realist. I am an IU football optimist.

We can win... Just not as likely.

We find ways--er, the Indiana Hoosiers find ways-- to lose. Yes.

Maybe thus it will ever be.

The game last night? In our hands. Then out of our hands. We had tied it at 31 with the possession to win!

Thus is the pigskin, the elusive game of bashes and bruises.

Not a bull to be slain like in a Hemingway novel, or gloves to knock faces or the current vogue of the UFC. This is a another "man's game", dressed in colorful uniforms and helmets of non-deadly use.

This is how we care sometimes.

 

 

You Don't Have to Believe in Jesus as Lord and King--But You Should

 You Don't Have to Believe in Jesus as Lord and King--But You Should

There are around two billion Christians in the world as of 2018. Two out of seven, give or take. That's a lot. However, when speaking of a lot, in the 21st century there are many more "nones" than ever before. More people than ever do not subscribe to any organized belief or religion, many are convinced atheists.

But you should find him. He's there.

Keep searching, don't give up.

Children are Good-- And necessary

Children are Good-- And necessary

Right?

We as humans have been raising children for millenia; before us in the last thousand years, our evolutionary ancestors did this for millions of years. We are animals, yes. God sparked or not, our roots stretch beyond horizons that are difficult to fathom. Before the modern times of the demographic shift (children surviving in large numbers, becoming dependents rather than immediate assets in the micro-economy), offspring were key to survival because of sheer labor on the farm, or as a defense across the vast expanses where various tribes or factions would threaten families' livelihoods or existence.

We live in a modern, or post-modern age, where children can seem like a drawback, like anchors on the modest ships that we, their parents, are, floating across the waters of life. They can seem like a drag.

But of course, we still need them. 

Children are Good-- And necessary

Right?

We as humans have been raising children for millenia; before us in today's times, in the last thousand years, our evolutionary ancestors did this for millions of years. We are animals, yes. God-sparked or not, our roots stretch beyond horizons that are difficult to fathom. Before the modern times of the demographic shift (children surviving in large numbers, becoming dependents rather than immediate assets in the micro-economy), offspring were key to survival because of sheer labor on the farm, or as a defense across the vast expanses where various tribes or factions would threaten families' livelihoods or existence.

We live in a modern, or post-modern age, where children can seem like a drawback--like anchors on the modest ships that we, their parents--are, floating across the waters of life. They can seem like a drag.

But of course, we still need them. 

They need us, we need them.

As parents we discover how we fit into their lives and they in ours.

No one fit is the same. Just like any relationship, it is unique.

Every parent needs their  autonomy; but they, these smaller dependent organisms, like limbs and fingers, a larger, older body needs their appendages, which children become as an adult parent matures and ages.

To a larger degree the community, communities in which all of us live, is the same.  Parents without children, which seems impossible, is possible through any community. Society has its independents and dependents; in the end we are all dependent on one another.

As lonely as a person may be: he or she as a hiker, a driver, a lone customer at a rural night cafe or an urban early morning diner-- that loner depends on others not to drive in their path, not to rob or harm them, not to disrupt their life in a way that obstructs their existence.

Everything, everyone has its place, literal family or no. 

Thus, a parent, and more hopefully a duo, more intrinsically connected and interwoven with their own blood and charge, forge forth to provide and develop their youth.

This is the family.

This is life. Parent of one, five, eight, or none, we are all parents. 

And we are all children.

We need grandparents, uncles, aunts, good neighbors in every sense.

And yes, we need our children, as much if not more than they need us.

The life cycle continues.

The earth, our great wet planet, needs parenting too. It is our child.

We come from it, we impact it, we leave it better or worse.

This is humanity's great collective marriage. 

And we, its children. Are we anthropods, us gangly bipods, necessary children to our home planet?

I think we are. And all its other iterations of the seven odd kingdoms, protozoa, fungi, and strange invisible eukaryotes: we all belong, we are all life's children.

And the parent from afar, it must certainly exist.

Children need parents, thus it ever was.

Who is the parent of your soul? Is it only the vast sky and beyond and above, the larger universe?

You are a child.

God is your parent. Or rather, there must be teams of them.

In the biological sense this is true to the tune of thousands of progenitors. 

I submit that this is cosmically so as well.