Tom and Me

Surfing the channels this past weekend, I paused to watch an older man with a half-smile on his face, tracking the flight of his ball.  Kindness came to mind, as I looked at his smile and crinkly eyes.  Aging was the next thought, as I studied his jowly neck.  Although the sport of golf holds little interest for me, the man’s face kept me from changing the channels.

The rest is history – that man’s history, my generation’s history, my history.  I ended up watching the last two rounds of the British Open in their entirety.  With Sri Lanka five and a half hours ahead of the west coast of Scotland, that meant that I was glued to the TV until midnight, both Saturday and Sunday night.

Just as I can place Ilie Nastase with tennis, Mike Tyson with boxing, John Elway with football, and Roger Clemens with baseball, if someone were to ask me: “Who is Tom Watson?”  I would answer: “Isn’t he a golfer from quite a while back, maybe from the days of Jack Nicklaus?”  This past weekend vaulted Tom Watson beyond those other, aging sports stars.  All the way into my heart he soared.

I’m just one of millions of television viewers around the world who rooted for Tom Watson, as he closed in on a remarkable golfing record.  How many times did I pump my fist, lying on my comfortable couch in Sri Lanka, as he holed a birdie or sank a long putt to save par?  Hour after hour, as he took out his driver or three-wood at the next tee, I thought: “May this drive stay on the fairway, please !!”

From the outset, I felt that every drive, every approach shot, every chip, every putt, was a shot made for ME.  As the winds off the eastern Atlantic buffeted the Turnberry course, I felt his grit, his dignity, his grace, his staying power.  When he ended the Third Round on the top of the leader board, I turned off my light and went to bed, worried about how Tom Watson would sleep that night, far away in Scotland.  I didn’t want his Sunday breakfast to upset a nervous stomach, knowing that his tee-time would come mid-morning.

If you’re asking why the emotional involvement in a man I’ve never met, playing a sport I have little interest in, five time zones from my home – the answer’s easy.  Tom and I both walk as straight as we can on an artificial hip.  Like Tom, I see a flabby neck when I shave in the morning.  Our bellies are rounder than they used to be.  Tom and I are both at the end of our 50s.  I think my blue eyes may twinkle as much as his do.

A flashback of Tom Watson playing golf on the same course in 1977 shows a guy with hair below his ears, a reddish quality to it, and a youthful face confident in his future.  That was the year he beat Jack Nicklaus as a 27-year-old to claim the British Open.  That year, my hair too was reddish and over my ears.  Two years later, I would run a marathon and feel so strong and fast that I almost tasted immortality.  Like Tom, my life was ahead of me, full of promise.

I don’t know anything about Tom Watson’s take on the thirty-plus years that span his two appearances at the British Open (1977 – 2009).  I imagine that he, like I, has traveled the globe countless time.  A competitive athlete for over four decades, I imagine that his life has included a fair amount of discipline.  He must have had inner reserves that helped him through strong winds and hard-to-read lies on his life’s course.  I wonder what inner forces kept him going, all those years?

I think the answer is in the way two of my best friends live, both age contemporaries of Tom and me.  Somewhere in Europe, Manfred runs a marathon almost every year.  He recently made a pilgrimage to a historical site in Spain.  He’s studied and written a book about what motivates people to succeed and do good things.  Rock-solid, he supports his wife Christa, years after transplant surgery.  They will soon welcome their first grandchild.

Dave, too, will soon be a first-time grandfather.  As I write this, he’s nearing the end of his first week in West Africa, where he’s traveled to bring home to Texas a second “African son.”  Because of Dave and his wife, this young Liberian man – not much younger than Tom Watson when he won his first British Open championship – will have his own future to stride into.  Dave writes poetry and takes long hikes and re-roofs his childhood home.  Both Manfred and Dave embrace, and thrive in, our imperfect world.

Forced into a play-off last weekend, Tom’s struggles belonged to all of us.  Tee-shots found the rough; an approach shot rolled into a sand trap; the previous days’ spectacular putts now missed by more than inches.  Nearing the end, his half-smile and twinkling eyes faded.  I felt so sad, watching those last holes.  I felt that every grimace, every missed shot, every painful limp, every frustration, was ME.

The other night, I dreamt that I was running on a dirt road in Africa, fast.  By my side were a young African woman and my friend Dave.  I felt so free, so young, so strong and full of the world.  The three of us ran on and on, until I woke up.  When I did wake up, the dream still filled my head.  In the middle of the night, in a dark room, I struggled to remember where I was.  Seconds were like an eternity, while I searched my mental atlas, country by country, until I remembered that I lived in Sri Lanka.  A dream of immortality, and then adrift in the void.

I guess it’s all what we choose.  As I prepare for my morning swim workout, I’ll think of Tom last Saturday afternoon.  He’s at the top of the leader board and has just hit another great drive in the middle of the fairway.  Yes, his neck is jowly and his belly round.  But his blue eyes twinkle and there’s a half-smile on his face.  He’s got spirit.

Stan Stalla
Colombo, Sri Lanka

from Lessons on Life: Surviving the World, lesson 42

Once you’ve purchased from the iTunes store and sync’d with your phone, head to the General preferences and turn on International keyboard. Then, navigate the International keyboards and activate Japanese. There will be three flavors there, choose emotij, and then go back to the menu and have some fun.

You’ll see a globe icon to the left of the space bar that will bring up page after page of emoticons. There was even a tent for me to ping my cross-country bound son. A short and sweet way to tell him I’m thinking of him, maybe make him smile. That’s precisely why I use emoticons! : )

Recently, researchers at Johann Wolfgang Goethe University in Frankfurt found consistent contamination of bottled water with a hormonally active substance leaching from PET. Such chemicals, known as “endocrine disruptors,” have the potential to interfere with estrogen and other reproductive hormones in the human body. However, the authors of the study say more research is required to determine whether, or to what degree, this poses an actual health risk to humans.

When in doubt, caution is in order. I feel justified in halting my purchase of bottled water. I found these great KOR bottles from a friends site. Even aluminum and glass ones. I read of some recyclable plastic ones that degrade over time, but I’ve been unable to locate the link.

My main reasons for not buying bottled water are related to the impact of the bottles on the environment rather than on the water inside them. To be honest, I drink water from a plastic water bottle when I’m thirsty and that’s all that is available. So, I’m not such a zealot that I can’t find a middle ground. Convenience speaks to so many Americans, it’s what we’re accustomed to, what we expect. But I find increasingly that the “convenience factor” plays a part in throwing away plastic bottles in the “regular” garbage. They give a naive “oh, I’m just one person, what difference could it (one little bottle) make?” Hey, we all make up the big picture here!

The Office for Sustainability at Yale published a great list of fast facts around bottled water: (The “Yale” in it adding some credibility to my no-bottle policy!)

1. “An estimated 25 percent or more of bottled water is really just tap water in a bottle—sometimes further treated, sometimes not treated at all.” – Allaboutwater.org

2. Drinking bottled water is 1000 (one thousand!) times more expensive than drinking tap water.

3. “In an interesting study conducted by Showtime television, the hosts found that 75% of tested New York City residents actually preferred tap water over bottled water in a blind taste test.” – Allaboutwater.org

4. “Bottling and shipping water is the least efficient method of water delivery ever invented. The energy we waste using bottled water would be enough to power 190,000 homes. But refilling your water bottle from the tap requires no expenditure of energy, and zero waste of resources.” – PBS.org

5. “The Earth Policy Institute estimated that to make the plastic for the [water] bottles [consumed annually] burns up something like 1.5 million barrels of oil, enough to power 100,000 cars for a year.” – SeattlePI.com

6. “Nearly 90 percent of [water] bottles are not recycled.” SeattlePI.com

7. “Bottled water is actually much less regulated than tap water. There are a number of studies in which we find arsenic, disinfection byproducts and bacteria in bottled water.” – SeattlePI.com, quoting Gina Solomon

8. 30 million water bottles are thrown away every day, and each one of them takes 1000 years to biodegrade. – emagazine.com.

9. “In one case, bottled water labeled as “Alaska Premium Glacier Drinking Water: Pure Glacier Water from the Last Unpolluted Frontier” was actually drawn from Public Water System #111241 in Juneau.” – emagazine.com.

10. Buying one gallon’s worth of bottled water is three times more expensive than buying one gallon of gasoline. – emagazine.com

These are just a few of the hundreds of reasons WHY we should be drinking tap water, or purified tap water if you must. Those who believe that bottled water is somehow superior to tap need merely taste water from a cooler purification system like Mojowater. Or XO Water. For a few hundred dollars, (the amount you spend on cases of bottled water for 4-6 months), you would have ALL the water you could drink (whole home water purification can cost thousands). Requiring nothing more than periodic filter changes, it’s a no brainer. Even the Average Joe can figure that out.

I love that the Web is filled with the beauty and inspiration of so many talented designers. An endless supply of amazing imagery.

I just surfed through Joshua Davis’ site at: http://www.joshuadavis.com/ . A beautifully presented portfolio based on flickr “sets” as a launch point. It’s really well done.

It was on the bio tab that I noticed the blurb about Apple’s Pro series. Joshua was profiled because of his illustrations dependence on computers. He writes Flash programs that combine colors, shapes, and apparently w/ chaos theory, the end results are beautiful, compelling, and unpredictable.

Author, Foreskin's Lament

So I finally finished (have to be in the right mood for bitter, funny, angry writing) Shalom Auslander’s memoir about growing up in a conservative Jewish family, Foreskin’s Lament. I loved the book so much, that I ended up hitting the web to find any subsequent books. Of course what I found was nearly as good! He had done a short video of the introduction to the book. http://bit.ly/dP5V6  where I was able to hear him narrate. He had a nice voice, not what I imagined for the tone of the book. I think I need to hear him in person now – to see if he has the sarcastic smirk that I imagine. Or see if there is real anger, red faced, fidgety, raised voice anger, behind his words.

It’s a fascinating story of believing in God, but questioning his power. Of believing that temptations (to eat bacon, for example) could lead to significant and dramatic retribution by the Man himself. Challenging God, weighing the pros/cons and then deciding to proceed with the forbidden, was all very familiar to me. I remember making imaginary deals with him if I got in trouble – I would promise to pick up my room if he could only get my Mom to say yes to the trip to the Fair.  I remember as a child, believing that the Sunday School teachers were chosen by Him. That they were his messengers and that I needed to listen and believe them. To disobey would be witnessed by God himself. My judgment may not come immediately, but oh,  it would come, missy. You can be sure.

After a while, I realized these women were just women. Like my Mom. Who smoked, and drank, and occasionally swore (usually while drinking and smoking). They had no inside line w/ God. And so, I didn’t have to believe their lessons as fact. In fact, I began to question and doubt the religion that I’d been raised in. I continue to do so to this day.

This could get so incredibly long as I have continued exploring and learning in my adult life and have many thoughts on religion. My youngest took a Freshman seminar on atheism, something that I’ve never considered us to be. His books have been enlightening, tho’ some are not without an agenda. Just as the atheists preach and yell that to believe in God is an absolute absurdity,  the Born-again Christians absolutely guarantee that Jesus will be here…and soon! I have a hard time with any absolutes.

As I enter the best half of my life, I am comfortable saying that I’m a contented,  grateful and spiritual person. I don’t require a church, or a tithe to congregation and  building to acknowledge the beauty I see every day. Or to appreciate the happiness I feel in living honestly, openly, and with a kind heart. It feels good to be content at this stage of my life – lest I end up with the hostile, critical and angry tone of Shalom Auslander. But, I find (in support of my problem with absolutes) angry and hostile can be enjoyable and funny. This book was both.

My 1st Tweetup at NASDAQ w/ David Meerman Scott

Watching my colleagues check tweets during meetings, Twitter always seemed like another distraction to keep me from my work. I had already left Facebook dwindling, checking status once in the evening, missing birthdays, invitations and *important* updates.  Then, when my dear friend, E, encouraged me to try Twitter (and after spending a week watching him laugh and converse with friends 2k miles away), I decided to give it a shot. I am sure that I’m posting tons of newbie gaffes, irritating folks with my regular anti-water bottle speeches, and passing along a number of fascinating (hmm, only to me?) ReTweets. But at the same time, I’m learning. Following people that interest me. Ones that I can learn from.  For me, right now, this means expanding my knowledge in the new worlds of social media, marketing, self-branding, illustration, design and photography. And finding out just how far this new communication takes me.

Also, I’m feeling like “auto-magically” is being overused. Good thing I’ve not taken that habit up…tho’ i have grown fond of  using the “not so much” phrase. That kind of describes how much time I’ve spent on being creative lately.

by Hugh MacLeod