Musings from the Middle

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Horse Racing Capital of the World

By John Y. Brown III, on Tue May 13, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

Pardon this brief political and commercial announcement about the importance of supporting our local industries.

Let’s make sure we don’t ever let another state become the Horse Racing Capital of the World.

Sure the jobs and economy are… important.

But imagine what we could end up with instead the first Saturday each May (see below). There’s not a lot to choose from if we lose this proud and well deserved title. Do we really want to become, say, the “Car Touching Capital of the World?” That could be our only option. Think about it. Florida will never concede Dog Racing Capital of the World.

Could we even take that title from Shanghai?

I’m not sure we could. At a minimum we probably couldn’t get Toyota to be the sponsor after last week’s announcement. It’s just a lousy fallback position to have.

It’s just important we think about the consequences of taking our key Kentucky industries for granted. Taking something for granted is usually the last thing you do before feeling really dumb about whatever you are taking for granted.

Car touching, admittedly, has some superficial appeal. But I don’t think it has the potential to have the long proud history comparable to being The Horse Racing Capital of the World.

Close your eyes for a moment and imagine a few years in the future that post time is about to be announced. For car touching. Billboards featuring car touching images would dot our highways. But it just wouldn’t be the same picking out a special hat or tie for this new annual event.

You get the idea. I’m not sure I’d open my eyes either.

You can open your eyes now, though. And enjoy the grandeur of yet another Kentucky Derby.

Let’s make sure we keep it that way.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Four Kinds of People

By John Y. Brown III, on Mon May 12, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

There are four kinds of people in the world.

There are those who say “You can’t do that.”

And there are those who say, “I just did.”

Then there is the group who says, “I told them that they couldn’t do that in here and that they were going to get in trouble if they didn’t stop…but they went ahead and did it anyway. I couldn’t believe it and was about to call and tell on them but couldn’t find find my phone.”

And finally there is the fourth group who says, “Phst. I could do that much better than they did. I just don’t want to right now. You can use my phone if you want to.”

We could probably use a fifth kind.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Random Thoughts

By John Y. Brown III, on Fri May 9, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

I just got asked by a friend (jokingly)

“What will you do with yourself now that you are over the hill?”

My answer: “Find a new hill.” (Seriously)

===

What if life really isn’t like a box of chocolates?

Then what?

Do I try to make a paradigm shift in my world view at age 50?

Or am I too old to hassle with a world view paradigm shift and better off just continuing to insist life really is like a box of chocolates?

Frankly, I hope I never have to make this choice but this is the burden of having a deeply philosophical mind.
Even if you are shallow.

===

I was told years ago by a very wise mentor, “It is what you learn after you know it all that counts the most.”

Amen to that!

===

I am a bad man.

Dropping Hamiltons at Walgreens at 10pm on a Wednesday night.

The 24 hour Walgreens too.

May even come back later tonight for multivitamins.

Or Ovaltine.

Or not.

I don’t even know.

It’s crazy.

===

My wife’s birthday and mine are both coming up soon…

And made me wonder if young people say things on their birthdays like “14 is the new 11” or “8 is the new 5” or “This is my my 12th birthday–for the third year in a row.”

Or if they just have their birthdays for whatever age they are.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Oh

By John Y. Brown III, on Thu May 8, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

“Oh.”

I’m not sure when it started but recently I have noticed that the above word has become BOTH the most common word in my vocabbulary.

And my most commonly used sentence.

Note: Finishing a close second in both categories is the word and sentence: “Sorry.”

And sometimes I even find myself combining the two, I.e. “Oh. Sorry.” Or the less common but equally effective, “Sorry. Oh.”

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: One more reason it is good to be a gal

By John Y. Brown III, on Wed May 7, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

One more reason it is good to be a gal.

My theory is that when we meet St Pete guarding the Pearly Gates the conversation with us is going to sound a lot like the conversation we have with a police officer when we are trying to talk our way out of a traffic ticket.

We concede we made mistakes but that that it wasn’t deliberate –and we try to focus on the good things about our driving and driving history and how much respect we have for the law, etc, etc and then try to make an emotional appeal to their sympathy.

But women, I suspect, have a much higher success rate than men do at talking their way our of traffic tickets. And I also suspect that is a transferable skill that can be used on St Pete, too.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Thank You to a Real Public Servant

By John Y. Brown III, on Tue May 6, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

Thank you– to a real public servant.

Louis Hall, a quiet and unassuming man, who went to work every day at our State Capitol for 62 years, retired today.

Louis never held elective office. And never aspired to.

Louis never helped shape public policy or wrote a Supreme Court decision or issued an executive order. And that was fine with him.

But Louis was a personality, a smile, and a sunny disposition who did his job dutifully every day in our state Capitol and made it a little bit better place to work. And has been doing so since Alben W Barkley was the vice-president of the United States and presidential candidates relied on corny musical jingles like “I like Ike” to get elected.

Lewis was a friend to everyone who took the time to say hello back to him. As well as a friend to those who didn’t. And in a place where friendliness can often be suspect, there was never an ulterior motive with Louis.

He was a constant fixture at our state Capitol for over six decades. While history was getting made –or not getting made– Lewis was quietly and graciously doing his job and never failed to deliver a kind word or humorous remark whenever he had the opportunity.

And those things are important in ways that are difficult to measure and are never fully appreciated –until they are gone.

Monday morning will start off like every other Monday at our state Capitol, for those who work there. But by lunchtime –or certainly by late afternoon–something will feel like it is missing even though it will be hard to put your finger on what that something is.

It will be the daily smile you took for granted and the friendly face you always enjoyed seeing as you turned to walk down a hallway at the state Capitol.

And could never imagine not being there.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Next Phases in Life

By John Y. Brown III, on Mon May 5, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

Not being ready to hear something doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

Yesterday I was talking to a counselor friend and we got on the subject of “next phases” in life.

I mentioned my kids had just turned 16 and 20 and I missed the feeling in our family of being “captain of our team” –and lately felt more like I had been relegated to the position of third base coach whose only role was making odd scratching and touching signs that looked like early onset of dementia to observers.

I was laughing because I was exaggerating. Until my
friend pointed out that I was exactly right —and then reassured me by describing the occasional important role that a third base or first base coach can play.

But that wasn’t what I was expecting or ready to hear.

There was a long silent pause.

As I waited for my friend to tell me he was just kidding, he was simultaneously waiting for me to let this painful truth to sink in.

Then I interjected my conclusion. “No. Uh-uh. No…That’s not what is happening in my situation. That’s not really what I am talking about.”

Before adding, “I am talking about players that go through a bad season or two before they make a big comeback.”

Then there was another long pause.

This time I didn’t say anything. I just pretended to slide my fingers across the bill of my cap, touched my chest, tapped my nose and winked.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Late Night Conversations with My Wife

By John Y. Brown III, on Fri May 2, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

Late night conversations with my wife.

I am restless and up and my wife Rebecca is half asleep and trying to go completely to sleep.

Me: “Hey honey. Want me to make some tea and we can talk?”

Rebecca: “No. I don’t want any tea.”

Me: “But you want to talk?”

Rebecca: “You can talk. I am not going to respond, though.”

Me: (after a pause) “Ok. What would you like to talk about?”

Rebecca: (no answer)

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Talking in cars while waiting in traffic

By John Y. Brown III, on Thu May 1, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

Car talk is different than other conversations. Both the driver and passenger are looking forward and not at each other. Mostly anyway.

It’s not as intimate and more informational.

And both passenger and driver are captives in any conversation.

Earlier today I was stuck in traffic across from a couple about my age. The man was driving and had a grayin…g beard and glasses that somehow seemed fogged.

The woman also wore glasses but had holders on hers so they wouldn’t fly off. She waved her hands animatedly when talking and seemed either to be describing something important to her or venting about something that frustrated her.

The man was basically motionless and emotionless. He preteded to be watching the traffic and concentrating on driving but we were stuck at a standstill in traffic and there was nothing for him to do except listen. But he seemed mostly to be pretending to listen. He wanted her to think he was listening but also wanted her to suspect he may not be listening.

It was his way of communucating that although he cared about what she was saying, he didn’t care that much– and thought she was probably over reacting. She seemed to be getting more dramatic and demonstrative the more he seemed only to be pretending to listen. It was her way of saying, “What I am saying is actually a lot more important than you think it is and you would understand that if you would listen closer to what I am saying.”

As they both kept starring ahead out the windshield.

Then the traffic cleared. And we drove on.

But I suspect their conversation continued.

John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Romantics Vs. Realists

By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Apr 30, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET

My beautiful wife and some shmo

Romantics and realists (and silly young couple arguments).

My son Johnny was talking to my wife and I last week and reminded me that I once described myself to him as a “romantic” and my wife, Rebecca, as a “realist” and wanted to know what I meant by that.

I knew exactly the story he was talking about and I told him that I thought the story depicted well the difference in what it means to be a romantic versus being a realist.

After my wife and I had been dating for several months we started to discuss the possibility of marriage. We were in our 20’s and weren’t engaged yet but felt we soon would be and were talking one night at dinner about our love for one another. It was our conversational version of Billy Joel’s song, “I love you just the way you are.” “Would you still love me if I flunked out of law school?” I asked. “Of course I would” Rebecca reassured me.

But during the course of this otherwise sweet conversation I decided to push the envelope a little too far. I asked Rebecca a hypothetical question. “Let’s say that instead of going to law school I drove a taxi and never went to college and had no plans of ever going to college, would you still love me and want to marry me anyway?”

Rebecca looked puzzled at me as she thought about my question. “I’m not so sure about that one.” She said. “I doubt I would want to marry you if you were that different.”

I was floored! I reasoned defensively, “I would still be me …the same person I am right now. You know? But born into a different economic circumstance and with a different job and background. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sure you’d be sweet and I would maybe date you but I don’t think I would be able to marry you,” Rebecca tried to explain. “In my family, college is just very important and I don’t think it would occur to me to marry you if you weren’t ever going to go to college.”

“Really? You wouldn’t marry me if I drove a taxi and never planned on going to college?” I said woundedly. So I tried to change the hypothetical. “OK. What if I drove a taxi, hadn’t gone to college but was considering going to college? Would you marry me then?”

Rebecca said, “That’s not a fair question.” “So you are saying ‘no?’ I interjected. “I guess so,” Rebecca said. But added, “It’s not fair to ask that and it doesn’t make me shallow for saying I wouldn’t marry you if you were that different. It’s like me asking you if you’d marry me if I was grotesquely overweight right now. I don’t think you would.”

“That’s different.” I said. “That’s something about you personally that would be different. In my hypothetical I would be the exact same person I am now– just born into a different environment.”

“I don’t think there’s a difference.” Rebecca said.

“Of course there’s a difference,” I said.

“Well, if there wasn’t a difference in our questions, would you marry me if I were really, really overweight?” Rebecca asked again.

“I would,” I said. “Even though it is different.”

“No you wouldn’t” Rebecca snapped.

“I would for sure if you were up to…maybe…say just 40 pounds overweight”

“See!” Rebecca exclaimed. “But not if I were 60 pounds overweight?”

“No, I would marry you if you were 60 pounds overweight right now –assuming you wanted eventually to get in better shape.”

“Well, then, if you drove a taxi and hadn’t gone to college but eventually wanted to go to college –and maybe even graduate school– I would probably marry you.”

“Probably?” I queried.

“Yeah. OK. I would marry you. But only after you finished college.” Rebecca explained.

“Well, I would marry you if you were 60 pounds overweight and wanted eventually to get into shape –but I wouldn’t make you wait until you got in better shape before I would marry you.” I said dejectedly. “We’re just different, I guess. I must be more of a romantic than you are.”

And that is, I suppose, the difference between a romantic and a realist. The romantic is always prouder of his hypothetical position, his hypothetical zest and his hypothetical passion. But a little sad that it isn’t fully reciprocated by the more sensible among us. Who romantics seem inevitably to find and marry. And these realists seem to find a satisfactory amount of admirable real qualities in the romantics they marry. But the romantic feels their spouse—by focusing on only their existing and actual qualities—is missing out on the hypothetical qualities the romantic admires most. But because the realist overlooks the romantic’s hypothetical qualities, and because the romantic overlooks the realist’s actual qualities, they can somehow make it all work. And Lord knows they need each other. But as to who needs the other more? That is a whole different argument. But sounds a lot like the one above.