I "Heart" Technology!

   I love technology. Yes, sometimes it is frustrating, and I admit I have very little understanding of how my fingers on this keyboard cause 0's and 1's to show up as letters. The fact that I know it involves 0's and 1's I know puts me far ahead of many in my generation (the mid-boomers). As write (or is it type) this blog, I'm listening to Neil Diamond  (which version of Cherry Cherry is my favorite?) on Spotify, keeping a tab open to ESPN to keep up on the World Series, and thinking that I might watch an episode of the Rockford Files from Netflix via my Wii before I go to bed. Or maybe I'll just read part of a book on my Kindle.
   Born in 1955, I've seen the evolution of all kinds of technology. Black and white TV became peacock color, AM radio was kicked to the curb by FM.  Rotary dial phones replaced by touch tone ditched for wireless, then for 4G (whatever the heck that is!). When I started in sales 24 years ago I was required to check my voice mail 3 times per day. I had to know where pay phones were in every little Podunk town in Kansas, Missouri and Arkansas, some are still there.
  I know I had 2 CB radios in the "70's, when that technology was the rage. You must remember this was still before the first wireless telephone had shown up in any TV shows. Sure, Captain Kirk had his communicator and Batman used a tiny walkie-talkie, both were certainly cool technology. The Star Trek communicator did come to life and I had one, it was called the Motorola Razor Phone, I loved that phone, that low tech....phone, just a phone, what a sad thing. No WiFi or Facebook access.
   Adding machines and manual cash registers replaced first by electronic descendants who in turn have been replaced by computers.I even remember when there were no UPC codes on products and worked in the grocery store in Springfield that had the first scanners.
   Technology is even ready to throw waiters and waitress under the bus by being on your restaurant table top allowing wireless reordering of drinks, desserts, paying your bill and leaving the tip, while your wait staff does something else.
   Music technology is the most amazing. I remember the first record player my parents got for me and my brother. It was a red and white box, 3 speeds. It was portable, the case closed and had a handle. We had records that were current rock and roll songs that my parents must have liked along with some kids records. I remember "Big Girls Don't Cry" He's A Rebel", and some others. As a matter of fact I think those are still in my possession along with other vinyl 45's and albums. We also had a small reel to reel recorder and made several productions of our own similar to the famous Chicken Man shows, with music.
   I progressed from there to 8 track and even had my own Panasonic recorder to make mix tapes of my favorite albums and be able to play them in my car. 8 track players mounted under the dash were big during my high school years. Just to show how technology moves, I have a 1999 Ford Explorer that has both a cassette player and a CD player to help ease through the transition into the 21st century.  
I could go on and on, VHS, CD's,  streaming, iPods, and oh yes Spotify.
What's next? Who knows, I'm thinking that if I"Google" "show me the future" maybe I can get the answer.
You know what, I "heart" Google too! BTW, 7th inning stretch, score is tied 0 to 0. Go Cards!
Peace, my Friends.

Guts!

    Tuesday, an autumn afternoon, the shadows are long along the tree line, the timing clock reads 11:36 as the 25th runner crosses the blue mat finish line in a field along the 4 lane highway.
   The runner a 7th grader, took off at the sound of the gun with about a hundred other boys, 7th and 8th graders. The crack of the starting pistol started  the stampede, and very quickly the leaders, began widening the gap between them and the pack, and between them and the boys who would not even see the back of the leaders shirt again. The boys at the back.
   From the very beginning the gap between the lead boys and the boys at the back gets wider and wider. As the stampede moves out of sight, the spectators surge across the course to intercept the leaders as they come back through the field toward the finish line.
 "Where's the mile mark?" parents ask each other.
Parents and coaches are shouting at their runners.
 "You're 18th, move up, come on now!"
 "Use the downhill!"
"Good job! You can do it!"
" Keep going! Half way!"
The leaders and the first big packs move past, sweating, huffing and puffing, grunting to move forward, one foot in front of the other. As they move, so do the spectators, hurrying to be at the finish line to see who wins, who places and who shows.
   The boys at the back are just now coming into sight as most of the spectators move away. Suffering just the same as those in front, putting out just as much effort as the 1st place, 10th place, 25th place boys. They are not fast, they too are putting one foot in front of the other. They are runners.
   Then, at the finish line the clock reads 9:56 and the pounding of rubber soles on sod fills the air above the shouts of encouragement from the spectators crowding the line.
"Don't let him take you!"
 "Go, go, use your arms!"
 "Almost there!"
"Come on! Sprint!"
   Then, the last big pack is through the finish line, the clock reads 12:46. The crowd on the line disperses to find their runners, they walk across the course.
    But the clock is still timing, waiting for the boys in the back.
"Clear the course, runners still coming in!" shouts the official down the field.
 Yes, they are, the last ones. The boys in back. They are running. Running hard. Their faces are not smiling, they are not slackers, nor are they slacking, they are runners. They will finish. Get out of the way. They will cross in their time. They will not have a DNF (Did Not Finish) by their name, they will have a time. Their time. Some of us realize they are coming. We clap and shout encouragement.
   These last of the pack runners, the 3rd to last, the 2nd to last, the next to last and the very last are not to be pitied. They are to be admired, encouraged and not forgotten. Each one is part of a team, and each one has done their best.
   Iconic runner Steve Prefontaine said, "A lot of people run a race to see who's fastest. I run to see who has the most guts."
  On that Tuesday afternoon, a lot of kids, 7th and 8th grade boys and girls, showed us that they all had guts.
First,  25th or last, they had the guts to finish what they started.
 I like that.
 I like cross country running.
 Guts.
Peace, my friends.