Saturday, August 29, 2009
WHO'S IN CHARGE HERE?
By Joseph Walker
So I'm sitting in front of my computer, wondering where this week's column is going to come from, when all of a sudden I hear that old, familiar voice inside my head: "Hey, guy, what's happening?"
"Oh, no. YOU again. Look, I've got deadlines to meet. I don't have time for you.
"You NEVER have time for me, but we always manage to find some, don't we?"
"Yeah, and that usually means trouble -- for me."
"You mean like when you were 15, and you were goofing around with some sparklers on the 4th of July, and I came along and asked how far you could throw one?"
"That's EXACTLY what I'm talking about. Why didn't you warn me about how quickly a well-thrown sparkler can turn a dry, weed-infested field into a three-alarm fire?
"You didn't ask. But, hey, it was exciting for a while there, wasn't it? Almost as exciting as the time I talked you into taking the ol' Corvair for a spin without your parents' permission, and, as I recall, without a driver's license. Yeah. That was great, wasn't it?"
"I thought so. I'm just glad nobody got hurt. You would've been responsible…"
"Hold on just a second, buddy boy. YOU would've been responsible. I'm just a part of you, remember? Only I'm the part that makes you want to do dumb stuff, which I've gotta tell you, has been pretty darn often during the past 54 years. Like when you were little and you took that pack of baseball cards from the store. I was the one whispering, `No one will ever know.'"
"That's right. I remember."
"And the time in high school when those kids wanted you to sluff school to go water-skiing? That was me, reminding you of how overwhelmingly important it is to be popular."
"Big deal. I was a kid, and kids are susceptible. You haven't had much impact on me lately.
"Oh yeah? How about in April, when you were putting together the information for your taxes? Or the other day, when that clerk didn't charge you for the gum? Or this morning on the elevator, when you stood opposite that beautiful young woman in the shorts and the…"
"OK, I get the point. Maybe I do hear your voice once in a while, but I don't pay as much attention as I used to. It may have occurred to me to fudge a little on my taxes, but I didn't. And I brought the gum to the clerk's attention. And I barely notice that young woman on the elevator.
"Uh-huh. Sure."
"Honest. I've learned that you don't have to act on every impulse. In fact, the opposite is true. If you want to control your destiny, you have to first learn to control yourself. The greatest power in the world is power over self. It's just a matter of deciding who's going to be in charge: me or you.
"Are you trying to tell me that you think you've got me under control?"
"Not completely. I still give you too much power sometimes, but I'm trying."
"Well, you're going to have to try a lot harder. Weren't you the one who was whining about your deadline a little while ago? Well, it's almost here, and I've distracted you long enough to get you in SERIOUS trouble. Just like old times!"
"Maybe. Then again, maybe not."
--Joe Walker joseph@josephbwalker.com
So I'm sitting in front of my computer, wondering where this week's column is going to come from, when all of a sudden I hear that old, familiar voice inside my head: "Hey, guy, what's happening?"
"Oh, no. YOU again. Look, I've got deadlines to meet. I don't have time for you.
"You NEVER have time for me, but we always manage to find some, don't we?"
"Yeah, and that usually means trouble -- for me."
"You mean like when you were 15, and you were goofing around with some sparklers on the 4th of July, and I came along and asked how far you could throw one?"
"That's EXACTLY what I'm talking about. Why didn't you warn me about how quickly a well-thrown sparkler can turn a dry, weed-infested field into a three-alarm fire?
"You didn't ask. But, hey, it was exciting for a while there, wasn't it? Almost as exciting as the time I talked you into taking the ol' Corvair for a spin without your parents' permission, and, as I recall, without a driver's license. Yeah. That was great, wasn't it?"
"I thought so. I'm just glad nobody got hurt. You would've been responsible…"
"Hold on just a second, buddy boy. YOU would've been responsible. I'm just a part of you, remember? Only I'm the part that makes you want to do dumb stuff, which I've gotta tell you, has been pretty darn often during the past 54 years. Like when you were little and you took that pack of baseball cards from the store. I was the one whispering, `No one will ever know.'"
"That's right. I remember."
"And the time in high school when those kids wanted you to sluff school to go water-skiing? That was me, reminding you of how overwhelmingly important it is to be popular."
"Big deal. I was a kid, and kids are susceptible. You haven't had much impact on me lately.
"Oh yeah? How about in April, when you were putting together the information for your taxes? Or the other day, when that clerk didn't charge you for the gum? Or this morning on the elevator, when you stood opposite that beautiful young woman in the shorts and the…"
"OK, I get the point. Maybe I do hear your voice once in a while, but I don't pay as much attention as I used to. It may have occurred to me to fudge a little on my taxes, but I didn't. And I brought the gum to the clerk's attention. And I barely notice that young woman on the elevator.
"Uh-huh. Sure."
"Honest. I've learned that you don't have to act on every impulse. In fact, the opposite is true. If you want to control your destiny, you have to first learn to control yourself. The greatest power in the world is power over self. It's just a matter of deciding who's going to be in charge: me or you.
"Are you trying to tell me that you think you've got me under control?"
"Not completely. I still give you too much power sometimes, but I'm trying."
"Well, you're going to have to try a lot harder. Weren't you the one who was whining about your deadline a little while ago? Well, it's almost here, and I've distracted you long enough to get you in SERIOUS trouble. Just like old times!"
"Maybe. Then again, maybe not."
--Joe Walker joseph@josephbwalker.com
Afternoon Visits with Clara and Queenie
By Cynthia Groopman
There are many events that occurred during my childhood that made an impression upon me and some of them are of the warm fuzzy variety. When I think of them now, they make me sigh with a smile of longing and nostalgia.
Right across the hall from us, there lived the manager of our cooperative housing development and his family, which included an elderly mother-in-law named Clara and a beautiful, sweet dog named queenie.
Clara became instant friends with our grandmother, who lived with us, since they were around the same age and shared common interests.
Many late autumn or winter afternoons, when Clara and Queenie felt lonely, they would ring our doorbell. I always energetically ran to the door, opened it and, with a big smile, hugged Clara and Queenie. Queenie headed straight into our kitchen and situate herself by the seat where I would be sitting and doing my fifth-grade homework. Clara and grandmother would hug, sit on the sofa and speak about senior citizen things, like their aches pains, show pictures of grandchildren or even watch television.
Since both of them were not hearing well, the television was louder than usual. Queenie would sit and watch me do my homework, and when I had a sad look on my face, as if to say that the math problem is so difficult to solve, she would wag her tail and lick me. Not to worry, was that lick, and I would pet her soft coat. Her tail danced and joy was in her tender eyes.
Clara and grandmother, although elderly, were of different cultural backgrounds. Clara was involved with child study as a younger woman college, educated and American born. Grandmother came to NYC form Russia at age 15, worked in factories as seamstress and, although a graduate of the college of common sense, had very little formal education in this nation. She was fluent in Yiddish and spoke some Russian and English well without any noticeable accent.
The afternoon would pass quickly with the joy of two senior citizens, talking, laughing and spending golden years together, embracing in warm friendship. Ten-year-old Cynthia, who was puzzled with fifth grade math or sometimes tired after a long school day, would hug Queenie, play with her and just share her companionship and warmth.
Snack time was great, and grandmother would have some tea and coffee cake that my grandmother baked. I would have cookies and milk, and Queenie would have his dog biscuit that Clara brought in with her for the doggie to enjoy while we were eating our people food. These visits were greatly appreciated, and we looked forward to them.
One day, at the appointed time, there was no joyful knock at the door. Waiting for a while, then not hearing from them, I decided to ring the doorbell of or friends, Clara and the doggie. Upon hearing the sound of the doorbell, Queenie began to whimper and her bark was sad, more of a howl.
I called the high school where Hazel, Clara's daughter was teaching and asked for her. When I told her the story, she told me to call the security guard, which I promptly did. The tall, uniformed man with lots of keys and a badge id on his jacket, rang my bell. He opened Clara's door and found her on the floor. She had fallen and was unable to get up. So, he immediately called the police department.
Queenie was sitting by Clara's side, licking her, and her tenderness, compassion and true empathy showed in her sad eyes. Meanwhile, Hazel did arrive home, and Clara was taken to the hospital. She had broken her hip. Queenie was crying, and that was the first time in my life that I heard a dog cry.
I began to pray and petted Queenie, telling her that Clara would return and visit us again. A few weeks later, my wish and prediction became true. Clara and Queenie did visit, and Clara was walking with a cane. She hugged me and grandmother, and told us that we saved her life, and that if it wasn't for Queenie's visits to us, she would have not been noticed and cared about.
Oh what joy it was to hug Clara and realize that Queenie was the one who truly was the hero. These lovely visits lasted until eighth grade, then Clara became feeble and went into a nursing home. Queenie took this so badly, became sick and had to be put down.
Although the years flew by so quickly, I still relish with great yearning those lovely afternoons filled with love, joy, caring and sharing when senior citizens, a sweet dog and a little girl all joined hands in the garden of deep friendship.
Now I am grown, hazel is with the angels, and Clara is in heaven. But these sweet, cherished memories are now savored like a delicious piece of cream cake.
--Cynthia Groopman Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
There are many events that occurred during my childhood that made an impression upon me and some of them are of the warm fuzzy variety. When I think of them now, they make me sigh with a smile of longing and nostalgia.
Right across the hall from us, there lived the manager of our cooperative housing development and his family, which included an elderly mother-in-law named Clara and a beautiful, sweet dog named queenie.
Clara became instant friends with our grandmother, who lived with us, since they were around the same age and shared common interests.
Many late autumn or winter afternoons, when Clara and Queenie felt lonely, they would ring our doorbell. I always energetically ran to the door, opened it and, with a big smile, hugged Clara and Queenie. Queenie headed straight into our kitchen and situate herself by the seat where I would be sitting and doing my fifth-grade homework. Clara and grandmother would hug, sit on the sofa and speak about senior citizen things, like their aches pains, show pictures of grandchildren or even watch television.
Since both of them were not hearing well, the television was louder than usual. Queenie would sit and watch me do my homework, and when I had a sad look on my face, as if to say that the math problem is so difficult to solve, she would wag her tail and lick me. Not to worry, was that lick, and I would pet her soft coat. Her tail danced and joy was in her tender eyes.
Clara and grandmother, although elderly, were of different cultural backgrounds. Clara was involved with child study as a younger woman college, educated and American born. Grandmother came to NYC form Russia at age 15, worked in factories as seamstress and, although a graduate of the college of common sense, had very little formal education in this nation. She was fluent in Yiddish and spoke some Russian and English well without any noticeable accent.
The afternoon would pass quickly with the joy of two senior citizens, talking, laughing and spending golden years together, embracing in warm friendship. Ten-year-old Cynthia, who was puzzled with fifth grade math or sometimes tired after a long school day, would hug Queenie, play with her and just share her companionship and warmth.
Snack time was great, and grandmother would have some tea and coffee cake that my grandmother baked. I would have cookies and milk, and Queenie would have his dog biscuit that Clara brought in with her for the doggie to enjoy while we were eating our people food. These visits were greatly appreciated, and we looked forward to them.
One day, at the appointed time, there was no joyful knock at the door. Waiting for a while, then not hearing from them, I decided to ring the doorbell of or friends, Clara and the doggie. Upon hearing the sound of the doorbell, Queenie began to whimper and her bark was sad, more of a howl.
I called the high school where Hazel, Clara's daughter was teaching and asked for her. When I told her the story, she told me to call the security guard, which I promptly did. The tall, uniformed man with lots of keys and a badge id on his jacket, rang my bell. He opened Clara's door and found her on the floor. She had fallen and was unable to get up. So, he immediately called the police department.
Queenie was sitting by Clara's side, licking her, and her tenderness, compassion and true empathy showed in her sad eyes. Meanwhile, Hazel did arrive home, and Clara was taken to the hospital. She had broken her hip. Queenie was crying, and that was the first time in my life that I heard a dog cry.
I began to pray and petted Queenie, telling her that Clara would return and visit us again. A few weeks later, my wish and prediction became true. Clara and Queenie did visit, and Clara was walking with a cane. She hugged me and grandmother, and told us that we saved her life, and that if it wasn't for Queenie's visits to us, she would have not been noticed and cared about.
Oh what joy it was to hug Clara and realize that Queenie was the one who truly was the hero. These lovely visits lasted until eighth grade, then Clara became feeble and went into a nursing home. Queenie took this so badly, became sick and had to be put down.
Although the years flew by so quickly, I still relish with great yearning those lovely afternoons filled with love, joy, caring and sharing when senior citizens, a sweet dog and a little girl all joined hands in the garden of deep friendship.
Now I am grown, hazel is with the angels, and Clara is in heaven. But these sweet, cherished memories are now savored like a delicious piece of cream cake.
--Cynthia Groopman Cynthia.Groopman@verizon.net
Bung Hatta Dan Kisah Sepatu Bally
PADA tahun 1950-an, Bally adalah sebuah merek sepatu yang bermutu tinggi dan tentu tidak murah. Bung Hatta, Wakil Presiden pertama RI, berminat pada sepatu Bally. Ia kemudian menyimpan guntingan iklan yang memuat alamat penjualnya, lalu berusaha menabung agar bisa membeli sepatu idaman tersebut.
Namun, uang tabungan tampaknya tidak pernah mencukupi karena selalu terambil untuk keperluan rumah tangga atau untuk membantu kerabat dan handai taulan yang datang kepadanya untuk meminta pertolongan. Hingga akhir hayatnya, sepatu Bally idaman Bung Hatta tidak pernah terbeli karena tabungannya tak pernah mencukupi.
Yang sangat mengharukan dari cerita ini, guntingan iklan sepatu Bally itu hingga Bung Hatta wafat masih tersimpan dan menjadi saksi keinginan sederhana dari seorang Hatta. Jika ingin memanfaatkan posisinya waktu itu, sebenarnya sangatlah mudah bagi Bung Hatta untuk memperoleh sepatu Bally.
Misalnya, dengan meminta tolong para duta besar atau pengusaha yang menjadi kenalan Bung Hatta.
"Namun, di sinilah letak keistimewaan Bung Hatta. Ia tidak mau meminta sesuatu untuk kepentingan sendiri dari orang lain. Bung Hatta memilih jalan sukar dan lama, yang ternyata gagal karena ia lebih mendahulukan orang lain daripada kepentingannya sendiri," kata Adi Sasono, Ketua Pelaksana Peringatan Satu Abad Bung Hatta. Pendeknya, itulah keteladanan Bung Hatta, apalagi di tengah carut-marut zaman ini, dengan dana bantuan presiden, dana Badan Urusan Logistik, dan lain-lain.
Bung Hatta meninggalkan teladan besar, yaitu sikap mendahulukan orang lain, sikap menahan diri dari meminta hibah, bersahaja, dan membatasi konsumsi pada kemampuan yang ada. Kalau belum mampu, harus berdisiplin dengan tidak berutang atau bergantung pada orang lain. Seandainya bangsa Indonesia dapat meneladani karakter mulia proklamator kemerdekaan ini, seandainya para pemimpin tidak maling, tidak mungkin bangsa dengan sumber alam yang melimpah ini menjadi bangsa terbelakang, melarat, dan nista karena tradisi berutang dan meminta sedekah dari orang asing.
Visualise your Goal
The Catalina Island is twenty-one miles away from the coast of California, and many people have taken the challenge to swim across it.
On July 4th 1952, Florence Chadwick stepped into the water off Catalina Island to swim across to the California coast. She started well and on course, but later fatigue set in, and the weather became cold.
She persisted, but fifteen hours later, numb and cold, she asked to be taken out of the water.
After she recovered, she was told that she had been pulled out only half a mile away from the coast. She commented that she could have made it, if the fog had not affected her vision and she would have just seen the land.
She promised that this would be the only time that she would ever quit.
She went back to her rigorous training. And two months later she swam that same channel. The same thing happened. The fatigue set in, and the fog obscured her view, but this time she swam with faith and vision of the land in her mind. She knew that somewhere behind the fog was land.
She succeeded and became the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel. She even broke the men's record by two hours.
SUCCESS PRINCIPLES
When you set your goal, keep pressing on even when you are tired, physically and mentally, and even though there are many challenges ahead.
Keep the vision of your goal crystal clear before you and never, never, never… give up!
See the reaching, commit to it, and you will surely see your goal realized.
On July 4th 1952, Florence Chadwick stepped into the water off Catalina Island to swim across to the California coast. She started well and on course, but later fatigue set in, and the weather became cold.
She persisted, but fifteen hours later, numb and cold, she asked to be taken out of the water.
After she recovered, she was told that she had been pulled out only half a mile away from the coast. She commented that she could have made it, if the fog had not affected her vision and she would have just seen the land.
She promised that this would be the only time that she would ever quit.
She went back to her rigorous training. And two months later she swam that same channel. The same thing happened. The fatigue set in, and the fog obscured her view, but this time she swam with faith and vision of the land in her mind. She knew that somewhere behind the fog was land.
She succeeded and became the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel. She even broke the men's record by two hours.
SUCCESS PRINCIPLES
When you set your goal, keep pressing on even when you are tired, physically and mentally, and even though there are many challenges ahead.
Keep the vision of your goal crystal clear before you and never, never, never… give up!
See the reaching, commit to it, and you will surely see your goal realized.
Skate a Roller Coaster
Extreme skater Dirk Auer skated the Tripps Drill Roller Coaster in Stuggart Germany wearing only a pair of customized in-line skates. Reaching speeds of 90 km/hr on the first hill, it took him less than a minute to complete the track. Because of the likelihood of a rogue nail which would ’cause instant death’, this was considered one of the most dangerous stunts ever.
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