“Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday.”

Not only is that a line from one of the most-quotable, classic movies of all time, it is an appropriate topic for the special day being celebrated this week. (I am referring to Valentine’s Day, not Ash Wednesday.)

As a good friend likes to remind me, when it comes to mawage, I out-punted my coverage. I have a hard time disagreeing with him.

Another friend once said, in reference to my wedding, “never have I seen a bride cry so hard walking down the aisle and never have I seen a bride with so many reasons to cry.” I am not as sure about that one.

Though I am one to appreciate humorous comments like these, when I got married I was also very fortunate to have the benefit of receiving helpful advice from many people on how to have a good marriage. One piece of advice sticking in my head came from a friend who told me to remember, and often use, these three simple phrases – “Yes, dear.” “Sorry, dear.” “You’re right, dear.” I must admit, I have not yet fully mastered the art of using of these phrases but since the giver of the advice and his wife are closing in on 50 years of marriage, I figure the advice is worth paying attention to.

50 years! The reality of what it means to be married 50 years and beyond can be difficult to truly comprehend.

The past several years I have had the pleasure of attending the 50th wedding anniversary celebrations of a few couples, including my parents. Think about it, since my parents and the other couples were married, they have weathered tough economic times, including at least seven recessions. They have worried about the future of the world because of the Cold War, the Vietnam War, the threat of nuclear war, Gulf Wars I and II, and the War on Terror. They have held on to their values while adapting to continual, societal changes, from the social upheaval of the 60s and 70s to the fast-moving pace of the 90s and 2000s. They have experienced, and continue to experience, countless personal triumphs and tragedies, as well as the triumphs and tragedies of their children and grandchildren. Through all of this and much more, my parents and the other couples have not only survived, they have thrived and probably enjoy each other more now than ever.

Before I got married, I had my opinions on marriage and divorce, and just like the parenting advice I was willing to offer prior to becoming a parent, I was willing to offer my opinions on marriage to people who were not really asking for them.

Since getting married, I have been humbled and have learned to judge less and empathize more when marriages do not work out. Not many people enter into a marriage planning on it ending in divorce. I know many good people who, for reasons I am not privy to, were not able to make it work and spending time placing blame and shame does not seem to serve much of a purpose.

With so much publicity, though, focusing on marriages that do not work out, I just think it is good to celebrate the many marriages that do work out.

“Yes, dear.” “Sorry, dear.” “You’re right, dear.” I hope and pray I am wise enough to master those phrases by the time my wife and I reach 50 years.

P.S. I purposely did not mention the name of the movie the quote comes from for fear of insulting those who know the movie as well as I do, or even better. For the name of the movie and the many other quotable lines from it, just Google “mawage.” You will not be disappointed.

Molding Dreams

Contrary to what you may have read or heard, teaching is not the noblest profession in the world. Any honorable profession in which someone works hard and does his or her best to make a difference is as noble as any other. Watch my mother-in-law serve her customers and you will understand what I mean.

It would be difficult, though, to find many professions having a greater impact on the world than teaching.

Recently, I finished rereading Molder of Dreams, by Guy Rice Doud. Guy was the National Teacher of the Year in 1986. In the book he talks about some of the struggles he had in school and how some of his teachers truly made a difference in his life. He mentions Mr. Card, his 6th grade teacher, who was one of the first teachers to give hope to an overweight, always-picked-last, discouraged kid (Guy). Mr. Card was one of Guy’s dream molders.

The book is touching and a very good read. I recommend it highly. It is also special to me because I have a several connections with Guy. Guy grew up a half a block from my family. He babysat my siblings and me. He also organized a successful picket line when a neighbor would not return the foul balls that landed in her yard from the neighborhood sandlot baseball games. (I think she promised to give the balls back as long as the story about the protest stayed out of the local paper.)

Most importantly, Mr. Card was also one of my dream molders. Mr. Card was my junior high wrestling coach. After years of playing basketball, I decided to join wrestling in 8th grade. I had a pretty good year for being new at it but I wasn’t too sure I would go out the following year. I was thinking I might try swimming, since that was the sport my brothers were in. Mr. Card, though, molded my dreams by taking the time to write a few personal lines of encouragement in the season summary. Because of the handful of words Mr. Card wrote, I decided wrestling was the sport for me and I can honestly say it was one of the most important and impactful decisions of my life.

Mr. Card was not the only molder of my dreams. Mr. Hoffbeck helped sculpt a bit, too. He was my senior high social studies teacher. He was liked and respected by the potential scholars and the potential dropouts because he showed genuine interest in everyone. Mr. Hoffbeck cultivated my interest in psychology and the human condition and was the main reason I chose education as a career.

Tom (T.K.) Keating, the 2004-2005 Minnesota Teacher of the Year, was also influential. I had the pleasure of interning with T.K. and his colleagues and was able to witness what can happen when an adult shows a sincere belief that all kids can be successful and takes the time to show he or she cares. T.K. tragically died way too soon but his funeral was a testament to his life’s work, with students from all walks of life in attendance. You could tell T.K. molded their dreams, too.

Of course, dream molding is not just reserved for teachers. Any and all of us can be dream molders. It is just I have been fortunate to have a career in education and work alongside, and witness the talents of, so many molders of dreams.

The list of those who helped mold my dreams is far too long to print. I am grateful for each one of them. I like how my life is because of them. So Mr. Card (if you ever read this), Mr. Hoffbeck (I know you read this), T.K. (I hope I told you), and the rest of my dream molders, I say “thank you!”

I encourage everyone who reads this to take the time to appreciate the molders of dreams in your own lives and do your best to mold the dreams of others.

I am not being humble when I say I do not think I could ever have the impact on others that my dream molders have had on me. I know, though, if I can even have a tenth of the impact, I will be doing okay.

Aaaagh…what is wrong with the youth of today!

Aaaagh…what is wrong with the youth of today!

They sure do not work like we did, behave like we did or appreciate things like we did when we were kids.

Have you ever heard someone make a statement like that? How about these complaints?

The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. Children are now tyrants, not the servants of their households. They no longer rise when elders enter the room. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers. – Socrates

“The young people of today think of nothing but themselves. They have no reverence for parents or old age. They are impatient of all restraint… As for the girls, they are forward, immodest and unladylike in speech, behavior and dress.”
 – Peter the Hermit, AD 1274

I am sure many of you have seen one or both of these quotes passed around the Internet at some point in the past decade. Whether either person actually said what is quoted is questionable, just the fact, though, the quotes have been referred to for decades, if not centuries, illustrates how common complaining about the youth of today is, no matter what time period “today” pertains to.

It just seems that one inalienable right of any generation is the right to complain about the generations that come after them. Granted, in many ways each successive generation has it easier than the previous generations. That is just the nature of living in a developing world. But when you take the time to get involved with youth and realize what they are doing, you would find out they are doing some amazing things, while facing challenges many of us did not need to face.

A few years ago, I participated in an online discussion (argument) on this subject. I think the discussion began with the mention of a newspaper article regarding some trouble some youths got into. One of the other participants was trying to make the point that today’s youth are lazy and spoiled because none of them have to milk cows by hand anymore.

In addition to wondering why anyone would want to milk cows by hand today, I responded to him with this:

Before we start making huge generalizations about “kids” please consider a few things. If you have concerns about the character or work ethic or whatever of kids these days, they did not raise themselves. If you want to blame someone, blame the generation that raised them (that would include all adults and not just the parents).

Mostly, I would seriously disagree with the generalizations about what is wrong with kids these days. Yes, there are some, maybe many, who do not work as hard as the previous generations. (Each generation seems to think the next generation is just not as good as they were. All of us were the next generation at one time.) If you want to see how hard kids work or the many amazing things they do, though, take the time to get involved in the lives of young people. You will see how many of them are balancing course loads in high school that many of us never handled until later in college. You will see them volunteering hundreds of hours of time, not to make themselves look good for scholarships and college applications, but because they truly want to make a difference. You will see them trying to fit this in with practice schedules and other time commitments many of us did not have until we started our careers. You will see kids who genuinely celebrate the triumphs of their peers and tearfully rally around each other in times of tragedy. Working in a high school, I get to see this everyday and I am fortunate.

Let’s pay less attention to the headlines about those who do not behave well and take the time to find out about and support those who do the right things but will never make the headlines.

From my viewpoint, our future is in good hands.

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Sleeping Around

“Hi. My name is Phil Corbett. I am happily unmarried but I sleep around a lot.”

How’s that for an attention getter? I actually used to use that as an introduction when I was directing retreats. I was fairly successful at getting the participants’ attention, as well as some pretty concerning looks.

I guess I should explain.

I got married later in life than most of my friends. While they were starting families, I was still trying to figure out how to start a relationship. (Some of you are nodding in agreement right now – I know it!) On weekends, certain holidays and other times when I had nothing to do, many of these friends would invite me to spend time with their families, often letting me sleep overnight. That is what I mean by “sleeping around.” Sorry if you were looking for something more scandalous or controversial.

These experiences were significant to me and led to the development of one of my many theories of life, and probably my favorite one – each of us has a family by chance and a family by choice.

Our family by chance is our family of origin. Whether by birth or adoption, we are added to this family by chance and not by any decision we make. Some are fortunate and have loving, supportive families by chance. Others are not as fortunate.

Our family by choice is the people with whom we develop relationships throughout our lives. For this, we should all be fortunate because we get to choose who they are.

I have been blessed to have a wonderful family by chance. I am the fifth of eight children in a loving, supportive, but by no means perfect, family. Every year we reserve a retreat center for three days to celebrate our family Christmas. Once again, this year, my parents, all my siblings and most of their children were able to make it, some traveling a few hours by car, others driving from Texas, or flying in from Massachusetts and Pennsylvania. Every other summer, my dad’s family (the children, grandchildren, etc. of Grandma Irene from an earlier post) gathers for a three-day campout, at which usually over one-hundred relatives show up. I could not have asked for a better family by chance.

I have also been blessed with my family by choice, but I have been wise with it, too. I have been fortunate to have wonderful people cross my path throughout my life and I have been wise enough to choose to grow those relationships.

My family by choice consists of people who have been supportive when I needed to be held up. They are people who have challenged me when I have needed to be enlightened. They are people who have been willing to listen to my ramblings when I needed to figure out the meaning of life. They are people from whom I have gained great wisdom and insight just by listening to them.

Most importantly, they are the people who have encouraged me to let my light shine, cultivating what is right about me, instead of digging up what is wrong about me, and I realize I am a better person because of them.

Far too many people spend their lives trying to change their family by chance. I think that effort could be much better spent developing their family by choice.

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Please Don’t Tell My Wife This

Please don’t tell my wife this – I like it when she travels for work. It is good to have her out of the house for a while.

Did I just say that?

Some of you who know me are thinking I should drop the shovel while I can still climb out of the hole I am digging, but you would also know I am not wise enough to do that. So before the hole becomes a grave, I better explain.

You see, I become a better parent and my kids become better kids when my wife is gone. Okay, that doesn’t sound quite right either.

Let me start from the beginning.

My wife and I have been married for 12 years. We have three children, ages 11, 8, and 6. When our oldest son was born, my wife became a full-time, stay-at-home mom. When he was about 10 months old, my wife recognized a need to get out and interact with other adults and, therefore, started her career in direct sales, doing home parties and educating people on the value of educational toys. This meant leaving the house a handful or more evenings a month for parties and other events and traveling to trainings and conventions several times per year.

That is what made me a better parent. Actually, my wife leaving made us both better parents. How? For me, it forced me to trust myself as a parent. It forced me to rely on my own skills, rather than relying on my wife to handle things like she would all day. It forced me to figure out more things to cook for dinner, though, pancakes and frozen pizza were perfectly acceptable and very popular for a long time.

For my wife, it forced her to let go of the notion that her way of doing something was the only way to do it. (Still, her way was usually the best, most effective, and, at times, the safest way to do something). This letting go also took some pressure off of her because we were able to be equals as parents, which, as she found out when she traveled to some homes, was not the case everywhere.

My wife leaving was also good for the kids. Our kids got to see their amazing stay-at-home mom get dressed up to also go be an amazing and confident career woman. They got to see her earn trips to wonderful places (which they got to experience only in pictures) because of how good she was at her job. They got to see that though her family was the most important thing in her life, just as with their daddy, it was not the only thing in her life that defined her.

Since last April, my wife has been working on the corporate side of direct sales, training and coaching others. She still works mostly from home but is traveling more often and for longer periods of time. She just recently returned from being gone for five days at a conference.

Once again, it was great for us. I enlisted the help of my parents and my kids got to spend some wonderful time with their papa and grandma. But there was more to it this time. I realized that when one of us or both of us is gone, our kids rely on themselves and each other a little more and grow up a little more. They also miss us a little more and appreciate us a little more. The looks on the faces of the kids and their mother, as they reunited at the airport, were evidence of that and truly priceless.

One last thing, when my wife travels for work, other people get to see how amazing she is, too.

Yes, I do like it when my wife travels for work but I love it when she is home.

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Honking and Helping

Many years ago, a speaker at a conference asked the question, “Are you a honker or a helper?” Basically, what she meant was when the stoplight turns green and the car ahead does not move, is the first inclination to honk or to wonder if the driver needs help. She then spent some time relating her “honker or helper” theme to life, in general, asking what the conference attendees first inclination is when people do things that inconvenience or irritate them. Do they honk and complain or help and offer assistance?

I would suggest most all of us are faced with honking and helping situations every day. I know I am and I have honked way too many times. To be honest, though, I am choosing to help a lot more and honk a lot less, even seldom.

A few years ago, on a flight to North Carolina, a young mother sitting in the row in front of me was struggling with her rather loud and restless child. In an attempt to settle him down, she let him take out his video game, which only made things worse for those of us around him because he did not have any headphones. It should not take much to imagine the looks those nearby were giving the mother. Remembering what the woman at the conference said, I chose to help, rather than honk, and handed him the ear-buds to my iPod, which made the remainder of the flight much more enjoyable for all.

A few months later, on a family trip out East, I made the mistake of trying to drive through New York City on I-95 and traveled less than two miles in over two hours. Trust me, there were many opportunities to honk – and one to help. A minivan was stalled in the middle of the left lane, causing all vehicles to merge to one lane and slow traffic down even more. Instead of adding to the chorus of honking, I decided to park in front of the minivan and help the occupants push it to the side, allowing cars to drive by. As a Twins fan, had I known before I stopped they were Yankee fans going to an afternoon ball game, I may have changed my mind. Still, I am glad I chose to help rather than honk.

I know these examples are fairly minor but these are the types of situations we encounter all the time and you never know the ripple effect helping someone rather than honking will have on his or her day.

I do wonder, though, if Jesus were alive today and telling the Good Samaritan parable, instead of using the road to Jericho, wouldn’t the setting be a backed-up interstate, a crowded airplane or some other ordinary situation most of us encounter every day?

My Role Models

The big news this week was the confession of Lance Armstrong. I have to admit, I so wanted Lance to be telling the truth all those years, winning the seven Tour de France titles cleanly. I was a Lance fan. I watched the TDF because of him. I saw the stories on his training regimen and it encouraged me to get on my bike. I read his book and was inspired by his fight against cancer. I wear a yellow bracelet and admire the work he has done helping others with cancer.

I’m not shocked he doped. Nor am I disheartened. Yes, I was a fan of his but he was not a role model of mine.

For me, the bigger and better news this week came in the form of a video shared over Facebook. The video is about the 2012 Sports Illustrated Kids SportsKids of the Year. If you haven’t seen it, Google it and watch the video. I won’t ruin it for you if you have not seen it but basically the story is about a 9-year-old boy who competes in triathlons with his brother. I dare you watch it and tell me you were not inspired by their story.

Yes, the older brother in the story inspires me but he would not a role model of mine, either.

I believe my role models should be people I know, people much closer to my home – some even in my home. Like my 11-year-old son who has the courage to try new activities, not knowing if he will be good at them or not. Or my 8-year-old daughter and 6-year-old son whose hearts are bigger than their small bodies. Or their mother and my wife (the same person), whose passion for everything she does is infectious.

Some parents at my church are role models to me. They have three boys – all young men now. The oldest two are significantly disabled. The youngest is extremely bright and attending a prestigious college. For how challenging I imagine their life can be, I do not believe I have ever seen either one of them not smiling. They help me keep my life in perspective and remind me of the importance of being positive.

I could list many more role models, all having a trait or two that I admire and want to emulate. I try not to put them on a pedestal because the only direction they have to go from there is down. I am well aware they have faults, though I may not know, nor care to know, what their faults are. Actually, the fact they have faults make them even more of a role model because it means they are human, just like me.

Charles Barkley, former NBA great, was right. We need to stop looking to celebrities for role models and look to parents and teachers (and children, and friends, and neighbors, and you get the point).

The Magic Gum: Parenting How To (not) 101

I remember when I was the expert at parenting. I had answers to most every parenting problem there was and was so confident in my advice I was willing to offer it for free, often without being asked.  I know. How thoughtful and generous of me.

Then I got married and had kids.

I have to admit there are times I would like to go back and slap that earlier version of myself and knock him off his high horse. (Any of you reading this who were the recipients of my former-self’s advice, you may go back and slap him, too.)

Celebrating humanity is just as much acknowledging, accepting and even embracing our shortcomings, as it is recognizing the positive things we do. I suggest there is no better topic to point out our humanness than parenting.

I think I am a pretty typical parent. Doing the best I can but making mistakes everyday – often the same mistakes over and over. Still, there are times I find myself wanting to put money into a therapy account for my kids to use when they are adults because of all the mistakes I make.  

One of the best therapies for me as a parent is hanging out with other parents. Sure is it nice to get a few hours, even a night, away. More importantly, it is great to hear the stories other parents tell so I can be reminded I am fairly normal. Today, therefore, I am providing a little free therapy for those of you who are parents and maybe just a little humor for those of you who are not.

Here goes. Several years ago, when my daughter was around four, she asked if she could have a piece of gum that was sitting on the counter. For some good reason neither of us now remembers, my wife and I said no. (It probably had something to do with finding chewed gum getting stuck around the house.) So instead, our daughter asked if she could have some candy from the candy jar. We said yes.  She chose some Smarties. 

A little while later, we noticed our daughter was chewing on something. We asked her if she took a piece of gum from the counter. She said no. We then asked her how the gum got in her mouth and she said the candy “magically” turned to gum. Catching her in an obvious lie, we gently tried to persuade her to tell the truth, using the “what you did was wrong and you will have consequences but not telling the truth about it is worse” line. She stuck with her silly story. We were a little worried that something pathological might be going on so we gently pressed a little more and still no change in her story. I don’t really remember how the discussion ended or the consequence we gave her.  We definitely let her know our disappointment in her for not telling the truth and hoped a little guilt might change the behavior next time.

Life went on and a month or so later, I needed to satisfy my sweet tooth.  I looked into the candy jar and saw some Smarties and popped a roll into my mouth.  I started chewing and “magically” the Smarties turned to gum.  I never knew Smarties made a gum!

Needless to say, my wife and I went to our daughter with our tails between our legs begging for her forgiveness.

Thankfully, our daughter accepted our apology and we still laugh about it today, which is fortunate since I have not yet opened up the therapy account.

Who Needs What I Have?

If you Google “four questions in life” like I did, the first page of your search results will most likely consist of some information about Don Juan DeMarco, Johnny Depp, a couple of doctors, and a few other more existential offerings.

When I think of the four questions in life, I think of Fr. Don Piche.

About 10 years or so ago, some friends and I were guest musicians at Fr. Don’s church. In addition to getting the opportunity to play music with some very talented people, I got to hear his sermon twice, which was a good thing, because it was excellent. The sermon centered on four questions motivating us at different stages in our lives. I do not remember if he came up with the questions himself or if he was borrowing material from someone else. I don’t even know if I remember exactly what he said anymore. I just know he spoke about the four questions and some variation of those questions has stuck with me since. Here is my variation.

During our younger years, others (usually parents) are responsible for providing for our needs and what is left to influence us is answering the question “Do I have what I want?” As we get older and begin to separate from our parents or caregivers, we take on more responsibilities for our lives and the question most pressing is usually “Do I have what I need?” As we get more settled into our adult lives, accumulating more things and filling up the storage spaces in our houses and garages, we may stare at our “stuff” and ask ourselves “Do I need what I have?” At this point, it is important to ask ourselves the final question – “Who needs what I have?”

Unfortunately, we know not everyone gets beyond the second question. Do I have what I need, or more likely, do we have what we need, is a question many families ask for prolonged periods of time. As someone who grew up feeling like a child on Christmas morning each time a box of hand-me-downs arrived from my cousins, I enjoy going through our family’s stuff and taking a load of it to Catholic Charities or Goodwill. I love the idea of getting rid of clutter. More importantly, I enjoy knowing someone else will be able to use what I have more than I do.

Who needs what I have, though, should pertain to all stages of life. Whether we are five or fifty-five, there is usually something we have that could benefit someone else. It may not always be our stuff, though. Sometimes, just a little bit of our time and effort is all others need from us.

An unexpected result of my post, Making a Difference, was getting emails from my cousins with other stories of the things my grandma did. One story that struck me illustrates this time and effort thought well.

One day a neighbor boy went up to his room with a shotgun and took his own life. While the mother was making funeral arrangements, Grandma gathered some neighbors, some pails, soap, rags and clean sheets to go clean up the mess. When some folks hesitated, Grandma said “there is no way that mom is going to face any more heartache coming home to that terrible scene. She’s going to find that bedroom exactly as it was before he died”. And that’s just what Grandma and others did. Wow!

Yes, often a little bit of our time and effort is what is most needed.

How Great Thou Art

I live in Minnesota in the St. Cloud metro area. For those of you not familiar with Central Minnesota, St. Cloud is a city of around 65,000 people, about an hour northwest of Minneapolis. I think we residents of the area are very fortunate to have access to numerous athletic and cultural events, especially theatrical and musical.

One such event occurred last November and December when the Great River Educational Arts Theatre (GREAT) put on A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. It was an amazing production! I know – I was in it.

Don’t get me wrong, what was amazing about the production had little to do with my acting, singing and dancing ability. My two left feet became tangled more than once and trying to sing and dance, while swinging a push broom, was challenging for me, if not slightly hazardous. (My balding head has the marks to prove it.)

Still, the performance was excellent, and according to most who attended, it was a production more than worth the price of the ticket. As we say in Minnesota, “not too bad” for a community theatre cast and crew of 60 or so volunteers, with varying degrees of theatrical experience and ability, and a handful of individuals directing and leading us, who I believe were compensated but far less than they were worth.

To me, though, what was most amazing about the production was not the final product but the experience itself.

To be clear, I’m a sports guy. I have participated in athletics at the high school and college level. I have coached various sports from the youth to the varsity level. I believe there is great value in competing and in winning and losing. I believe participating in athletics builds life-long skills and character.

I have never witnessed such growth, though, as I saw in my then 8-year-old son when he auditioned and was chosen for a play four years ago. Dropping him off for rehearsal three to four nights per week and on Saturdays for six weeks and seeing the changes in him when I picked him up several hours later sold me on the value of theatre and the arts.

Inspired by him, my 8-year-old daughter and I decided to audition for A Christmas Carol and made the cast. Through six weeks of rehearsing (two to three hours each night, three to four nights a week and five hours on Saturdays) and twelve performances over three weeks I got to witness first hand what my son experienced and came away with experiences and insight to last me a lifetime.

I got to witness and experience parent/child bonding when both are teaching each other, learning from each other and encouraging each other. I got to struggle through some rocky moments with the rest of the cast, crew and directing team, wondering if everything would come together and then realizing after more hard work and practice, things got better. I got to truly understand the meaning of “the show must go on” when cast members (including me) screwed up a line or a step and had no time to pout about it because the rest of cast was counting on us to get our next lines or steps right. My belief that our future is in good hands was reaffirmed because I got to hang out with and get to know young people in their teens and twenties and see the amazing things they are doing. Just the auditioning process itself was a valuable experience because it meant having the courage to dance, sing and read lines for the directing team, in front of 50 or so other people auditioning, knowing the chances of being selected were maybe 50-50 because another 50 or so were auditioning the next night.

Probably the most rewarding experience of all was watching my daughter work hard for six weeks, and though still being very nervous on opening night, have the courage to skip out on stage and perform in front of a full house. Because she did, she gained confidence to last a lifetime.

I repeat – I believe there is value in competing and in winning and losing. But I also believe there is just as great a value, if not more, in people working together so everyone ends up succeeding. Unfortunately, too often the end result of a sporting event leaves one side, at best, unhappy and, at worst, yelling and screaming. As a youth coach, I have been a witness to way too many screaming and yelling matches. As a high school coach, I ashamedly admit, at times, I was a participant.

What is great about the theatre is the only screaming and yelling is usually by the audience saying job well done.

For this, I say “How Great Thou Art!”