Only a few transplants in Danville enjoy baseball, at least professional baseball. Kentucky doesn’t have even have a team (but, we do have amazing college sports teams). Growing up 25 minutes outside of Philadelphia, I am an avid Phillies fan, and am sad that I am not surrounded by those who could celebrate the Phillies finally making it to the World Series. I resort to text messages and phone calls.
The Fall Classic is one of the most anticipated sporting events of the year. Well, at least for baseball fans. Fox is hosting the series, and introduces each game with a historical video that includes Michael Douglas, Kiefer Sutherland, Barak Obama, and John McCain reading quotes from former presidents, all the while theme music from the movie Glory chimes in the background (a sample from the video can be seen here).
The video displayed baseball as one of the unifying forces of this country through the more challenging times. Quite interesting for the voices of Obama and McCain to join amid all of the seeming insolent jabs between the two. Good move.
The voices of Obama and McCain joined together to read the final quote, by John F. Kennedy:
“I think that both baseball and the country will endure.”
Among the quotes was an interesting one from Herbert Hoover:
"Next to religion, baseball has furnished a greater impact on American life than any other institution."
I chuckled at this one. And beside myself and a few others, I know a certain someone who might disagree.
What about the institution of the family??? Come on President Hoover. Yeah, baseball has had a role to impact American life, but without the family where would we be? I am shady on the literary context from this one, but it made me think of the here and now.
Beyond thoroughly enjoying each of the first 2 games of the World Series, I was peripherally reminded of the importance of family and its significant contribution as one of the unifying forces of this country through the more challenging times.
Go Phillies!
Friday, October 24, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Almost Famous
One of the reasons I started this blog was to get famous.
Really, it was about holding me accountable to formulating and researching ideas and opinions, but the human that I am, I think about it at times, and as a child, I can remember wanting to be famous.
I would become a professional baseball player, discover the cure for Alzheimer’s, or write a best-selling book. Fame meant fortune, and I wanted to make lots of money so I could feel safe, then I would use it for a good cause.
America’s propensity toward fame is uncanny and, at times, extremely ridiculous. Globs of people gather in attempts to feel a movie star or political figure’s hand, as if their touch would somehow rescue them from a life of vain pursuits. People glom onto tabloid magazines and reality TV shows, attempting to feel a part of something much greater than themselves. Where does this yearning for fame or the famous come from?
I often wonder if was born in the wrong time period. Frustration swells over me as the internet, text-messages, and Ipods begin to reveal their unrelenting grip. Depression rates have sky-rocketed over the past few decades, and the unrealized assailants are our inadvertent attractiveness to the quick and the easy. Delayed gratification simply doesn't exist anymore.
Think about it – 200 years ago, people weren’t bombarded with constant advertisements, distracted by cell phones ringing, or interrupting dinner with a text message under the table. To be famous was to be the mayor or president, and those are good aspirations. I think I will teleport to back then and try it for a spell.
I remember how charged up I was when Antoine Walker, a former Boston Celtic, personally autographed my jersey. His hand grazed my chest as he made me feel like a million bucks. I was beaming for weeks. When friends talk about famous people they are distantly connected to, I eagerly bring up the fact that my aunt went to the prom with George Clooney.
Who cares? What is the big deal, really? In an age where experiences with the divine have been substituted with experiences with the famous, God and religion have taken a back seat to people like Antoine Walker. Sports stadiums and movie theatres have become America’s sanctuary.
After reading Donald Miller’s(author of Blue Like Jazz) blog yesterday, I became jealous of his founding of The Mentoring Project, which is attempting to recruit ten-thousand mentors through one-thousand church-based programs to answer to the American crisis of fatherlessness. That’s something I want to be a part of, that’s something I want to start.
Everybody wants to be famous, whether they admit it or not. I have to catch myself at times, because the quest for fame in and of itself is a dark path.
As I grew older, I finally realized that I would never be a pro baseball player – I couldn’t hit the curveball. More importantly, I began to realize that I was actually almost famous at the time, I just couldn't see it.
And here is the corn-ball paragraph: Once I began to let go of the fame and fortune culture, I was able to understand that I was, and am, famous. I graduated from high-school and college and I am afforded the opportunity to have jobs that I am passionate about. And my greatest fans are my family and close friends – they are the ones that bridge the gap between almost famous and famous.
To become famous is to volunteer at a soup kitchen, mentor a young child (or if you're really old, a younger adult), go to your cousin's high school graduation, send your sister a birthday card, talk to a complete stranger, adopt a child, or do trail-work - to name a few. They are different for everybody, but they are all similar in that they are serving others.
Really, it was about holding me accountable to formulating and researching ideas and opinions, but the human that I am, I think about it at times, and as a child, I can remember wanting to be famous.
I would become a professional baseball player, discover the cure for Alzheimer’s, or write a best-selling book. Fame meant fortune, and I wanted to make lots of money so I could feel safe, then I would use it for a good cause.
America’s propensity toward fame is uncanny and, at times, extremely ridiculous. Globs of people gather in attempts to feel a movie star or political figure’s hand, as if their touch would somehow rescue them from a life of vain pursuits. People glom onto tabloid magazines and reality TV shows, attempting to feel a part of something much greater than themselves. Where does this yearning for fame or the famous come from?
I often wonder if was born in the wrong time period. Frustration swells over me as the internet, text-messages, and Ipods begin to reveal their unrelenting grip. Depression rates have sky-rocketed over the past few decades, and the unrealized assailants are our inadvertent attractiveness to the quick and the easy. Delayed gratification simply doesn't exist anymore.
Think about it – 200 years ago, people weren’t bombarded with constant advertisements, distracted by cell phones ringing, or interrupting dinner with a text message under the table. To be famous was to be the mayor or president, and those are good aspirations. I think I will teleport to back then and try it for a spell.
I remember how charged up I was when Antoine Walker, a former Boston Celtic, personally autographed my jersey. His hand grazed my chest as he made me feel like a million bucks. I was beaming for weeks. When friends talk about famous people they are distantly connected to, I eagerly bring up the fact that my aunt went to the prom with George Clooney.
Who cares? What is the big deal, really? In an age where experiences with the divine have been substituted with experiences with the famous, God and religion have taken a back seat to people like Antoine Walker. Sports stadiums and movie theatres have become America’s sanctuary.
After reading Donald Miller’s(author of Blue Like Jazz) blog yesterday, I became jealous of his founding of The Mentoring Project, which is attempting to recruit ten-thousand mentors through one-thousand church-based programs to answer to the American crisis of fatherlessness. That’s something I want to be a part of, that’s something I want to start.
Everybody wants to be famous, whether they admit it or not. I have to catch myself at times, because the quest for fame in and of itself is a dark path.
As I grew older, I finally realized that I would never be a pro baseball player – I couldn’t hit the curveball. More importantly, I began to realize that I was actually almost famous at the time, I just couldn't see it.
And here is the corn-ball paragraph: Once I began to let go of the fame and fortune culture, I was able to understand that I was, and am, famous. I graduated from high-school and college and I am afforded the opportunity to have jobs that I am passionate about. And my greatest fans are my family and close friends – they are the ones that bridge the gap between almost famous and famous.
To become famous is to volunteer at a soup kitchen, mentor a young child (or if you're really old, a younger adult), go to your cousin's high school graduation, send your sister a birthday card, talk to a complete stranger, adopt a child, or do trail-work - to name a few. They are different for everybody, but they are all similar in that they are serving others.
Monday, October 20, 2008
The Great Kentucky Outdoors?
My favorite part of living in Colorado was feeling a sense of proportion to the world. The rugged, majestic, and inviting mountains provided a refuge for the adventurous spirit. Waking up each day, I faced a 14,000 foot mountain, Pike’s Peak. Talk about putting someone into their place, I was made keenly aware that I was connected to something much larger than myself. In Colorado Springs, everyone could tell you east from west. They have the Rocky Mountain front-range as their cue, and a daily reminder that the world doesn't revolve around them.
At first glance, Danville provides no sense of proportion to the world (from a terrain point of view), let alone any sense of outdoor recreation. There aren’t any local outfitters. REI, EMS, and other national outfitters have left Kentucky out of the equation.
Luckily, I stumbled upon J&H Lanmark Outdoors in Lexington. The 45 minute drive was worth the three hours I spent roaming around the store. I tried on the newest trail-runners, tinkered with backpacking stoves, poured over countless maps, zipped and unzipped tents, trail-talked with the staff, and swiped my plastic card for a healthy investment. I ended up purchasing the pair of trail-runners, mainly in attempt to encourage my discovery of the great Kentucky Outdoors.
I had known about the Central Kentucky Wildlife Refuge (CKWR), but didn’t realize its depth until I drove the 13 miles for a solo-hike one evening. I wiped the dust off my trekking poles, filled a day pack with the essentials, and headed out on the trail.
Since 1965, the CKWR has offered a diverse, 500-acre introduction to the Appalachian Mountains. Feilds, ponds, knobs, and rustic trails, traversing roughly 15 miles and offering various levels of difficulty, speckle the refuge. While hiking the well-traveled, 2.5-mile Circle Trail, I noticed the sign for the ominous Ridge Trail. At the junction, its path was consumed by various fauna, and I could understand why. Several years ago, I vividly remember hiking the Ridge Tail with a friend who was in great shape. As he raced up the mountain, I could feel my heart pulsating, sweet dripping down my face, and my calves demanding a long break. Not an easy hike. So, I finished the day on the Circle trail.
The CKWR offered seclusion, and an invitation to explore. As the sun’s last light broke through the canopy of oak and white pine, squirrels raced for the last acorn, deer disappeared in the foliage, and the chickadees sang the last song of the day. Not rugged, 14,000 foot mountains, but enough to ignite my sense of wonder.
Beside the CKWR, Danville is within a 1.5-hour drive of the Red River Gorge for day-trips. For overnight trips, Mammoth Cave National Park, Land Between the Lakes Nat’l Recreation Area, and the Great Smokey Mountain Nat’l Park are within a 4-hour drive - All great places for outdoor discovery and recreation.
At first glance, Danville provides no sense of proportion to the world (from a terrain point of view), let alone any sense of outdoor recreation. There aren’t any local outfitters. REI, EMS, and other national outfitters have left Kentucky out of the equation.
Luckily, I stumbled upon J&H Lanmark Outdoors in Lexington. The 45 minute drive was worth the three hours I spent roaming around the store. I tried on the newest trail-runners, tinkered with backpacking stoves, poured over countless maps, zipped and unzipped tents, trail-talked with the staff, and swiped my plastic card for a healthy investment. I ended up purchasing the pair of trail-runners, mainly in attempt to encourage my discovery of the great Kentucky Outdoors.
I had known about the Central Kentucky Wildlife Refuge (CKWR), but didn’t realize its depth until I drove the 13 miles for a solo-hike one evening. I wiped the dust off my trekking poles, filled a day pack with the essentials, and headed out on the trail.
Since 1965, the CKWR has offered a diverse, 500-acre introduction to the Appalachian Mountains. Feilds, ponds, knobs, and rustic trails, traversing roughly 15 miles and offering various levels of difficulty, speckle the refuge. While hiking the well-traveled, 2.5-mile Circle Trail, I noticed the sign for the ominous Ridge Trail. At the junction, its path was consumed by various fauna, and I could understand why. Several years ago, I vividly remember hiking the Ridge Tail with a friend who was in great shape. As he raced up the mountain, I could feel my heart pulsating, sweet dripping down my face, and my calves demanding a long break. Not an easy hike. So, I finished the day on the Circle trail.
The CKWR offered seclusion, and an invitation to explore. As the sun’s last light broke through the canopy of oak and white pine, squirrels raced for the last acorn, deer disappeared in the foliage, and the chickadees sang the last song of the day. Not rugged, 14,000 foot mountains, but enough to ignite my sense of wonder.
Beside the CKWR, Danville is within a 1.5-hour drive of the Red River Gorge for day-trips. For overnight trips, Mammoth Cave National Park, Land Between the Lakes Nat’l Recreation Area, and the Great Smokey Mountain Nat’l Park are within a 4-hour drive - All great places for outdoor discovery and recreation.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
A Convenient Truth
Inner city residents often complain about the lack of a grocery store. There used to be one on Main Street, but the city decided that parking spaces were more important. Now, we have to venture two miles to the by-pass where urban sprawl is in command.
City officials have been busy with attempts of revitalizing Main Street Danville. A new parking garage was erected, the Hub Coffee Shop and Café joined with the Centre College bookstore, construction workers have been busy installing new sidewalks, and many building faces have been restored. The Heart of Danville, a community driven economic development initiative, secures millions in grants for downtown Danville, establishes farmer’s markets on Main Street during the summer months, and sponsers community wide events. Wonderful improvements.
But, there still isn't a grocery store.
In my world, this is a dire situation. Stubbornness, and wanting to limit my use of gasoline had forced me to look for other options for "grocery stores" in downtown Danville (ok, it’s more about laziness).
Speedway is a gas station and convenience store located 2 blocks from the heart of Danville. Convenience…I'll say. And, It's 30 paces from my office at the Presbyterian Church. Problem solved.
I used Speedway for all of my eating needs. The people were great. I never had too look them in the eye, which was good for me because I was somewhat ashamed of my newly formed habit. And, more importantly, they had everything my stomach desired. Let's face it: McDonalds can't quench that 5th-avenue-sour-patch-kids-corn-dog-slim-jim-combos-coke-gatorade thirst. It's really the only place you can go to satisfy all of your heart's desires. They are more dangerous than Mickey D's, trust me. Along the lines of Supersize Me, Morgon Spurlock should subsist on food from Speedway, and call it A Convenient Truth. My formative, protruding belly demands it. America needs to know it's fat because of Speedway.
And when I bump into old friends, they usually greet me with, "Ooohhh, and I see you're carrying a little one with you these days – quite the beer belly." I never spoil their fun and let them know that it is actually a Speedway belly. And besides, I rarely have beer in my house these days. I only drink it at Applebee's with the softball team after we get crushed by scores of 32-1, 26-3, and 25-4. Pitiful, I know.
Anyway, even though old habits die hard, I was able to shake the Speedway one, although, the occasional 2 for $1 hot dogs draw me in from time to time.
Now attempting to cook real food back at my apartment, I purchased a miniature Weber grill. I cook huge quantities of chicken, steak, and vegetables and eat them for dinner and lunch for days. It is hard to cook for one person. That's why people get married.
All this to say, Speedway is evil. After quitting, I soon realized that I had racked up exactly 17,506 Speedway points. 750 points gets me a coffee of any size.
Guess I'll have to go back and cash in my 23 coffees.
City officials have been busy with attempts of revitalizing Main Street Danville. A new parking garage was erected, the Hub Coffee Shop and Café joined with the Centre College bookstore, construction workers have been busy installing new sidewalks, and many building faces have been restored. The Heart of Danville, a community driven economic development initiative, secures millions in grants for downtown Danville, establishes farmer’s markets on Main Street during the summer months, and sponsers community wide events. Wonderful improvements.
But, there still isn't a grocery store.
In my world, this is a dire situation. Stubbornness, and wanting to limit my use of gasoline had forced me to look for other options for "grocery stores" in downtown Danville (ok, it’s more about laziness).
Speedway is a gas station and convenience store located 2 blocks from the heart of Danville. Convenience…I'll say. And, It's 30 paces from my office at the Presbyterian Church. Problem solved.
I used Speedway for all of my eating needs. The people were great. I never had too look them in the eye, which was good for me because I was somewhat ashamed of my newly formed habit. And, more importantly, they had everything my stomach desired. Let's face it: McDonalds can't quench that 5th-avenue-sour-patch-kids-corn-dog-slim-jim-combos-coke-gatorade thirst. It's really the only place you can go to satisfy all of your heart's desires. They are more dangerous than Mickey D's, trust me. Along the lines of Supersize Me, Morgon Spurlock should subsist on food from Speedway, and call it A Convenient Truth. My formative, protruding belly demands it. America needs to know it's fat because of Speedway.
And when I bump into old friends, they usually greet me with, "Ooohhh, and I see you're carrying a little one with you these days – quite the beer belly." I never spoil their fun and let them know that it is actually a Speedway belly. And besides, I rarely have beer in my house these days. I only drink it at Applebee's with the softball team after we get crushed by scores of 32-1, 26-3, and 25-4. Pitiful, I know.
Anyway, even though old habits die hard, I was able to shake the Speedway one, although, the occasional 2 for $1 hot dogs draw me in from time to time.
Now attempting to cook real food back at my apartment, I purchased a miniature Weber grill. I cook huge quantities of chicken, steak, and vegetables and eat them for dinner and lunch for days. It is hard to cook for one person. That's why people get married.
All this to say, Speedway is evil. After quitting, I soon realized that I had racked up exactly 17,506 Speedway points. 750 points gets me a coffee of any size.
Guess I'll have to go back and cash in my 23 coffees.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Godforsaken Town
Ok. Maybe I was a little harsh.
But, come on...most Danvillites would admit that the post-grad-single-mid-to-late-twenty-something population is pretty scarce. And it's not like I don't try. When I roomed with Mark and Nate within the past year, we were pretty oblivious to this drought. Then Mark moved and Nate graduated. That is when it first hit Nate and I: "Where is everybody?" Nate and I went on a quest to form a 'community.'
Don't worry, it wasn't going to be like one of those communities that you join in Texas and then the next thing you know you are being told to drink something. No, this was to be an inclusive group of people with similar interests, facing the same challenges of the quarter-life crisis - much like Seinfeld (even though Jerry was probably 40 in the show).
We met Thom the Catholic (George) and an 'Elaine'. We had our ups and downs. Thom the Catholic moved to Cincinnati, Nate moved to New York, and I don't really know what happened to Elaine. Back to zero.
Now, I do have a few other friends in Danville - I see them once or twice a week.
If I'm not at a conference or retreat on the weekends, I usually travel to the big cities of Kentucky to visit family and friends. I am contented with this.
Danville is not the place for people like me. Danville is the place for married people, children, and college students. But, I will accept this place for the time being.
I have a couple of hands full of friends who I have talked with and found to be in a similar situation. Not necessarily with the Danville dynamic, but in a place with a lack of similar people. This isn't because we are obtuse. I think the root of the problem exists because the heart society (perhaps civil sphere could fit in here) has turned into a conglomeration of gesellschafts.
But, come on...most Danvillites would admit that the post-grad-single-mid-to-late-twenty-something population is pretty scarce. And it's not like I don't try. When I roomed with Mark and Nate within the past year, we were pretty oblivious to this drought. Then Mark moved and Nate graduated. That is when it first hit Nate and I: "Where is everybody?" Nate and I went on a quest to form a 'community.'
Don't worry, it wasn't going to be like one of those communities that you join in Texas and then the next thing you know you are being told to drink something. No, this was to be an inclusive group of people with similar interests, facing the same challenges of the quarter-life crisis - much like Seinfeld (even though Jerry was probably 40 in the show).
We met Thom the Catholic (George) and an 'Elaine'. We had our ups and downs. Thom the Catholic moved to Cincinnati, Nate moved to New York, and I don't really know what happened to Elaine. Back to zero.
Now, I do have a few other friends in Danville - I see them once or twice a week.
If I'm not at a conference or retreat on the weekends, I usually travel to the big cities of Kentucky to visit family and friends. I am contented with this.
Danville is not the place for people like me. Danville is the place for married people, children, and college students. But, I will accept this place for the time being.
I have a couple of hands full of friends who I have talked with and found to be in a similar situation. Not necessarily with the Danville dynamic, but in a place with a lack of similar people. This isn't because we are obtuse. I think the root of the problem exists because the heart society (perhaps civil sphere could fit in here) has turned into a conglomeration of gesellschafts.
I am not lamenting or seeking pity for people's ill-disposed prescriptions of loneliness. Sure, I do not deny loneliness at times, but I'm more so stating the simple facts of Danville, KY. I am quite happy.
But, you now might understand how I could sometimes surmise this town to be godforsaken.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Change of Pace
Prior to the beginning of my tenure with the Presbyterian Church of Danville as Youth Director, I have had many adventures since graduating from college:
-I have worked as a car-salesman (that's another story), substitute teacher, Starbucks barista, outdoor education instructor, summer-camp counselor, and assistant program director.
-I have tasted different cultures in 24 states and 7 countries.
-I have made and lost contact with many friends.
There was much movement in the two years after college, and many people were surprised when they heard I had settled down in the town of my alma mater. I surprised myself, but I was finally encountered a change of pace. No, I am not in the rugged mountains of Colorado, where within two-hours driving radius is any majestical outdoor beauty imaginable. I am not traveling, pilgrimaging around, discovering new and different cultures...
I am in Danville, Kentucky. And have been here since December of 2007.
The change was an adjustment, to say the least. As time has moved on since my arrival, I was met with emotions of bitterness, apathy, and regret. How I longed to be back in Colorado, backpacking with students in the wilderness for weeks on end.
These emotions eventually subsided, and others took their place: a sense of rebirth, stability, searching, becoming. I have always been on the go. Now I have found myself in a place where time seems to have come to a standstill. The opportunity to discover intellectual capabilities, spiritual awakenings, and physical fortitude is at hand.
I could wither this time away, feeding myself with shallow pacifiers of movies, TV shows, pointless internet surfing, fast-food, and compulsive sports-following (which can be, at times, good things). Or, I could challenge myself during this time by reading and researching stimulating books, defining what I am passionate about, challenging myself physically, and being intentional with friends and family. I chose the latter.
Danville has a lot to offer, and treating it as such will open many doors. Now I find myself within a two-hours driving radius of family and friends of the past. And, as a wise man once told me, "You might discover the world out in Colorado, but you might discover Mars here [in Danville]."
On to Mars...
This blog will account my travels, adventures, and discoveries while living in this Godforsaken town of Danville, Kentucky.
(To read the blog that inspired "Whereabouts in Danville," visit http://mark-mallman.blogspot.com/)
-I have worked as a car-salesman (that's another story), substitute teacher, Starbucks barista, outdoor education instructor, summer-camp counselor, and assistant program director.
-I have tasted different cultures in 24 states and 7 countries.
-I have made and lost contact with many friends.
There was much movement in the two years after college, and many people were surprised when they heard I had settled down in the town of my alma mater. I surprised myself, but I was finally encountered a change of pace. No, I am not in the rugged mountains of Colorado, where within two-hours driving radius is any majestical outdoor beauty imaginable. I am not traveling, pilgrimaging around, discovering new and different cultures...
I am in Danville, Kentucky. And have been here since December of 2007.
The change was an adjustment, to say the least. As time has moved on since my arrival, I was met with emotions of bitterness, apathy, and regret. How I longed to be back in Colorado, backpacking with students in the wilderness for weeks on end.
These emotions eventually subsided, and others took their place: a sense of rebirth, stability, searching, becoming. I have always been on the go. Now I have found myself in a place where time seems to have come to a standstill. The opportunity to discover intellectual capabilities, spiritual awakenings, and physical fortitude is at hand.
I could wither this time away, feeding myself with shallow pacifiers of movies, TV shows, pointless internet surfing, fast-food, and compulsive sports-following (which can be, at times, good things). Or, I could challenge myself during this time by reading and researching stimulating books, defining what I am passionate about, challenging myself physically, and being intentional with friends and family. I chose the latter.
Danville has a lot to offer, and treating it as such will open many doors. Now I find myself within a two-hours driving radius of family and friends of the past. And, as a wise man once told me, "You might discover the world out in Colorado, but you might discover Mars here [in Danville]."
On to Mars...
This blog will account my travels, adventures, and discoveries while living in this Godforsaken town of Danville, Kentucky.
(To read the blog that inspired "Whereabouts in Danville," visit http://mark-mallman.blogspot.com/)
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