Harry Hix

Patience has its reward

Be honest. Do you have a problem at times with patience?

I’m not talking about those little bouts of impatience that flare up now and then when something doesn’t happen as quickly as you would like or when your spouse takes more than the 30 seconds or one minute you allotted for his/her response. I’m not talking about the test of patience that comes when you tell your kid to have his room cleaned in five minutes and it drags out to 15 or 20 minutes.

I’m talking about having patience, as in dealing with something that may last an hour, two hours, a few days, maybe even a month or year. Hey, what about having the patience to wait and work for 13 years at something you hope to achieve?

That’s patience—the kind Guilder Rodriguez exercised.

Who is Guilder Rodriguez and what did he patiently work to achieve? He’s a baseball player from Venezuela who played diligently in the minor leagues for 13 years before being called up to the Texas Rangers earlier this month at age 31. But he wanted more than just getting to the Major Leagues. He wanted a hit, his first major league hit.

More patience was needed. He went 0 for 6 in his first six opportunities at bat with the Rangers. Then, Monday night he got his first big-league hit, a single to left field in the third inning. And there was more to come. In the seventh inning he drove in the game-winning run with another single to left field.

But, as they say in some commercials, there’s more. His dream performance was made even better because his father, Guillermo, had flown in from Venezuela and was in the stands watching his son play for the first time in 10 years.

Yes, patience can have its reward.

“This is one of the best moments in my life,” Rodriguez said. “This is the second-best moment, next to my two daughters being born.”

Not only is he a man of patience and determination, he apparently is also a man with his priorities in the right order. At least, that’s what ranking the birth of his daughters ahead of achieving a life-long dream says to me.

Life in the minor leagues can be tough and discouraging. Long bus rides. Constant uncertainty. Watching others advance while you plug away. Maybe having to move often. For Rodriguez, it meant playing 1,095 games in the minor leagues over 13 years and playing at all levels—Dominican League, rookie league, Low A, High A, Double A and Triple A—before finally getting his first call up to the Big Leagues.

Despite all this, he stayed with it, and now he has a dream night to cherish for the rest of his life, whether or not he remains in the Big Leagues.

His story made me think. Next time (probably sooner than I would desire) I have a flare-up of impatience, I need to think of Guilder Rodriguez. If he had allowed himself to fall victim to impatience, he likely would not have achieved his dream. Chances are basically 100 percent that impatience on my part will mean loss of something far less important than achieving a life-long dream. Certainly, instead of the reward of dream fulfillment, it will mean hurt feelings, a damaged relationship, a need to say I’m sorry, needless anger, or any of several other results—all of which could have been avoided by having a bit more patience.

I think all of us professing to be Christian should keep this in mind. An example of patience will have far greater influence and make us better ambassadors of our faith than will those times of impatience. Patience has far greater reward than impatience.

Battle of weaknesses

Sportswriters often like to come up with supposedly clever tags or titles for certain football games. Although I haven’t researched it for full accuracy, I seem to recall that, for example, there has been a Game of the Century, a Game of the Year (or have there been several of them?). Whether or not that is an accurate recall, you will, I assume, agree that sportswriters and broadcasters like to hang a moniker on a game to ensure that fans know how important it is or to delude them into believing that the game has more importance than one would expect in the overall scheme of society.

So, what’s the tag for Thursday night’s game between Oklahoma State and Texas Tech? None at this point. But, if one were to apply a tag, it might be a tag to signify an element key to the outcome of the contest rather than one to glorify or pump up the game’s importance. From the Stands, it appears that the game might be tagged as a battle of weaknesses.

I understand that this is neither an exciting nor exclamation-mark-worthy tag, but it may be an apt description.

How so? Here’s how. Texas Tech has a documented weakness so far this season in stopping an opponent’s running game, and the Cowboys, by Coach Mike Gundy’s admission, are struggling in the running game and not performing up to par. Thus, it would appear that each team has a weakness in need of improvement and whichever one comes up with the most improvement will be the winner.

The Red Raiders might have felt like they were the Black and Blue Raiders after the mauling administered to them in their last game by the Arkansas Razorbacks. The Hogs rooted out 438 yards rushing in whipping the Red Raiders 49-28. Ouch! I watched a portion of that game, and the Hogs just lined up and ran over Tech.

In their first two games of the season against two lesser foes, the Red Raiders fared only marginally better. Their run defense ranks 123^rd out of 125 Football Bowl Subdivision teams after three games. They have surrendered 294.7 yards rushing per game and yielded 13 rushing touchdowns.

I think it’s fair to say that is a weakness.

Last week, defensive coordinator Matt Wallerstedt either resigned or, as some media reports said, he was fired. Whichever is true, the Red Raiders now have a different coordinator for their defense. No doubt, all this means attention is being given to upgrading a weaknesses and trying to make it stronger.

When it comes to the running game, the Cowboys are doing just fine on defense, but are not performing up to standard on offense. The Cowboys are accustomed to being right at the top of the Big 12 in rushing–think Kendall Hunter, Joseph Randall, etc.—but this season they are still looking for those 100-yard games by the feature backs. The holes are not there in the line as they have been, Coach Gundy has said.

The Cowboys have continued to be successful in the passing game despite loss of a starting quarterback and a group of young receivers. But, the passing game needs to be balanced by a successful running game.

It’s fair here also to say that this is a weakness.

No doubt, both teams have been working on shoring up their weaknesses and trying to turn them into strengths. From the Stands, it appears that whichever team achieves the greater improvement will win the game.

I’m betting it will be the Cowboys.

The answer is what?

Here’s a quiz question posed to students in an online homework quiz in the Psychology 1100 class at Ohio State University:

Theo has an IQ of 100 and Aine has an IQ of 125. Which of the following statements would you expect to be true?

• Aine is an atheist, while Theo is a Christian.
• Aine earns less money than Theo.
• Theo is more liberal than Aine.
• Theo is an atheist, while Aine is a Christian.

According to a student commentary in The College Fix, a student-reported online publication, the correct answer for those taking the quiz was a) Aine is an atheist, while Theo is a Christian.

I’m jesting, right? Wrong.

An article in Campus Reform reporting on this quiz question quotes a student interviewed by phone as being uncomfortable and disappointed by the obvious bias of the question. “I understand that colleges have a liberal spin on things so it didn’t surprise me to see the question, which is a sad thing,” the student said.

I have spent enough time on campus as a teacher that I am not surprised a college professor would hold this belief or that the professor would express it in class. However, it is disappointing that a professor could stand behind such a poorly presented quiz question.

First, I see no basis for drawing any of the conclusions offered as an answer based on the statement: Theo has an IQ of 100 and Aine has an IQ of 125. I can see an immediate response of: So what? The statement offers only the information that Aine scored higher on an IQ test than did Theo. It is not an if A, then B proposition.

I cannot understand how the professor can justify any of the options offered as being the correct answer to the question: Which of the following statements would you expect to be true? How can the professor know what “you expect to be true”?

In the student’s commentary on this question, she asserts that Ohio State is teaching that atheists are smarter than Christians. I can’t go that far because it is not logically valid to assert that the university is taking a specific stand based on one professor’s quiz question and the answer deemed correct for that question. That’s painting everyone with the same brush.

I would agree with her, though, if her real criticism is that the question is poorly posed.

Perhaps, the course has included research information that the IQ level of most Christians is below a certain level and that most atheists have an IQ above a certain level. Assuming the validity of such research, it might be acceptable to offer the statement that Theo has an IQ of 100 and Aine an IQ of 125 and follow it with this question: Based on research information, which of the following statements would most likely be true?

Even with an assumption of valid research, it would be a poor wording to ask which statement “would you expect to be true.” The professor cannot know what you (or I) would expect to be true.

While the information presented in the class might indicate that because of her IQ Aine is an atheist and because of his IQ Theo is a Christian, it does not follow that you or I would expect this. Our experience with atheists and Christians may result in different expectations. What one expects to be true may not necessarily agree with what one is taught in class or with the expectations of others.

Personally, in my three quarters of a century of living I have known many people with high IQs who were atheists or agnostics, but I have also known many who were Christians. The same has held true for people of ordinary or average IQ.

Had I taken the quiz, I would have flunked on this question. I can understand that some might expect a person to be an atheist or a Christian based on his or her IQ, but I don’t have that expectation.

Fearing fears

In the oft-repeated words of FDR, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

Whether or not we believe this, all of us, if we are honest with ourselves, must admit that we have some fears. We may not be up-front about them and we may be able to avoid confronting them most of the time, but they exist. Some are private fears; others may be fears we share in common with many folks.

No doubt, for example, you know someone who deals with acrophobia, the fear of heights. I don’t happen to be a victim of this fear, but I have had some experiences resulting in feelings that bordered on acrophobia. At least, they gave me a better understanding of what it might be like to experience acrophobia.

While in Nashville, TN, several years ago, I had an opportunity to be in a hotel that was open in the center from the lobby to the top of the hotel with balconies on each level. It had a glass elevator, and I rode that up to one of the upper levels—the 16^th or 17^th floor or whatever, I don’t remember for sure. The elevator ride didn’t bother me, but an experience on the balcony did. I stepped to the railing and peered down into the open atrium. Whoa! It felt like the balcony floor was swaying. I had to fight off a queasy feeling and give myself strong encouragement to remain at the balcony a few moments to take in the view.

On another occasion while we were still publishing the newspaper in Millington, TN, I rode in an open cage (it has a name, but I can’t recall it) with a waist-high railing. I was attached to a cable and lifted skyward by a crane. The purpose was to take pictures for the newspaper of a construction site. Perhaps, the container was no more than 60 or 70 feet in the air—I never asked how high I was—but it seemed like 200 or 300 feet, at least. Nice view, I think, but I didn’t bother to take it in or enjoy it. With eyes wide open and my insides quivering, I quickly snapped a few pictures and signaled I was ready to descend.

On the ground, I thanked the crew foreman for allowing me to take the pictures. He said they were happy to have assisted and asked if I enjoyed the ride and the view. I lied to him, saying, “Sure.” In reality, I was just thankful to have dry slacks.

Claustrophobia, fear of being enclosed in a confined space, is another fear some people experience and one which can be quite terrifying. Until just over a year ago, I had no real understanding of how frightening claustrophobia can be. That understanding came when I had an MRI tube experience.

Beforehand, I was not concerned about it. Then, I had to lie on my back and put my arms by my side with instructions not to move for about 30 minutes. I was slowly moved inside a tube with less than a foot of clearance. The first 10 minutes or so were fine; then, the confinement began to press in on me. My mind went into overdrive to find ways of distracting myself. My prayer life picked up noticeably, and I began to sing hymns—in my mind, of course, not audibly. At home, singing in the shower makes the water back up, so who knows what might have happened if I had begun singing out loud in an MRI tube. For some unknown reason, the one hymn that kept coming to mind was Amazing Grace, and I have no idea how many times I sang all four verses to myself. Recently, I discovered that there is a fifth verse in some hymnals. Had I known it, I would have gladly included it in my silent concert.

That brush with claustrophobia assured me of a couple of things. One, I have no intentions of undergoing another MRI; and, two, I have a much better understanding of what those who have claustrophobia must experience when it strikes.

Earlier this week, I read a news story about another fear: arachnophobia, fear of spiders. I have not had an incident that gave me a better appreciation for what people with arachnophobia experience, but apparently it can lead to unusual behavior.

According to the news story, a man in Seattle tried to kill a spider in his laundry room by setting it on fire using a lighter and spray paint. I assume the spider was killed. The story didn’t say, but it did report that a fire started and the house sustained $60,000 in damage. Apparently trying to kill a spider using a lighter is not unique to the Seattle man. In June, a woman in Kansas tried to use a lighter to kill a spider, and she started a small fire in her duplex. Damage was slight. Again, I don’t know how the spider fared, but the spider’s assailant was arrested.

Reading about arachnophobia caused me to think about fears and led to recalling personal instances of anxious moments, if not ones of fear. It also reminded me that facing fear is a fact of life and how we handle those fears is what’s important, not that we have fears. That, in turn, made me thankful for my Christian faith and the way it helps me in facing and overcoming fears.

Heroes—both of them

Heroic acts can occur unexpectedly and involve personal danger, as was the case with Jon Meis, or they can be planned actions with no thought of being heroic, as was the action by Hunter Gandee. Both of these youth are to be admired for their actions, which each took a different form of courage.

At clear, personal danger to himself, Jon Meis, a dean’s list electrical engineering student at Seattle Pacific University, took action last Thursday to subdue a gunman who had entered a building on campus, killed one student and wounded two other people. While the shooter was reloading his weapon, Meis, a building monitor, pepper sprayed the gunman and tackled him to the floor. There, others gave assistance to Meis and subdued the gunman until police arrived.

Although others have proclaimed Meis a hero and police credited him with probably preventing additional violence or death, the young man in interviews with the press seemed not to view himself as a hero. Action was needed, and he acted.

Public response has spotlighted him as a hero. When it became known that he and his fiancée, Kaylie Sparks, have a June 21 wedding scheduled, someone posted their wedding registry site and quickly all items on the list were purchased for the couple. In addition, a honeymoon fund was set up and by Monday the fund had reached $25,000. That should make possible a nice honeymoon.

This past weekend, another type of courageous action took place, but it did not receive the national and international attention and press coverage of the incident in Seattle.

In Michigan, 14-year-old Hunter Gandee carried out a plan to honor his 7-year-old brother, Branden, who has cerebral palsy and is unable to walk without help. Hunter’s plan was to raise awareness of cerebral palsy by walking 40 miles with his brother strapped to his back, obviously a physical challenge for this 155-pound teenager whose brother weighs 50 pounds.

The walk took place Saturday and Sunday, beginning in Temperance, MI, and ending in Ann Arbor at the University of Michigan’s wrestling center, and covered a time span of 30 hours, a bit longer than Hunter had anticipated. He admitted to thinking about giving up. “Honestly, yes, there was a point that we did consider stopping. Braden’s legs—the chafing was getting pretty bad. It was at about the 30-mile point.”

But Hunter made a phone call at that point to a friend, who said a prayer for the brothers, That, combined with a rest and a change in how Braden was positioned on Hunter’s back, helped the youth make it the final 10 miles. When it was over, Hunter said he was “more tired than I think I’ve ever been. My legs are pretty sore. But we pushed through it, and we’re here.”

So, why did Hunter walk in heat and sunshine Saturday and rain and cool temperatures Sunday carrying his brother, who weighs a third as much as Hunter? To do something for his brother.

“I can’t even describe to you how special he is to me. I can’t put it into words,” the teenager said. “He’s awesome. He’s always there for me. I really just wanted to give back to him in some way.”

Jon Meis and Hunter Gandee—heroes both in my book. Each was willing to give to others despite personal danger or great physical challenge and stress.

Their actions made me stop and think about how lacking I am in giving to others and reminded me of the biblical admonition to put others ahead of our self. How many of us really do this?

Geese, goslings and gawking

Not sure which approach applies here. Being three-quarters of a century old causes me to see wonder in small things or simply a case of small things amuse a small mind. Whatever, I got a kick out of gawking at some geese and goslings today.

As I walked into the office headed for my desk, out of the corner of my eye (do eyes have corners?) I saw some movement in the patio area just outside the office door. The door was open to allow more light into the room through the primarily glass storm door. I stopped and glanced out the door to see what had caused the movement.

To my surprise, two yellow, fuzzy goslings were trekking along the side of the walkway connecting to the patio. Finding this unexpected and interesting, I immediately, and with urgency in my voice, commanded my wife, “Quick, look at this.” I suppose the fact that I was staring out the door and pointing in that direction kept Carol from having to respond, “Where? Look at what?”

She looked (what else was she going to do?) and instantly shared my enthusiasm and excitement. “Neat. They’re so cute.” Maybe that’s not exactly what she said, but it’s close. Who can remember exact words in such moments of excitement? (When you reach senior citizen status and retirement, excitement takes on a new definition, as you will discover when you get there.)

Possibly, you may be wondering what in the world geese and goslings are doing outside our door. Do we live in a bird sanctuary or adjacent to the Boomer Lake walking track? Nope, neither of these. However, our condo in Brentwood is adjacent to a pond and wooded area, and this environment adds immensely to our lives because of both the beauty and the wildlife that are part of it.

I enjoy feeding the birds and in recent days the birds have done a superb job of scattering birdseed from the two feeders onto the sidewalk and grassy areas under the feeders. This free buffet line of corn bits, sunflower seeds, and other delicacies along the ground had proven to be a significant attraction for the geese (a gaggle of them if you call four adults and five goslings a gaggle).

Amused and intrigued by what I was seeing, I grabbed my camera, which I keep on my desk for such occasions as this, and began taking pictures of our visitors, especially the cute, plump goslings scurrying around. They seemed totally oblivious to me (what’s exciting about a bald-headed old man gawking at you and talking pictures when you are feasting at an all-you-can-eat buffet?).

Within a short time, Carol had transferred the pictures, both still and video, to her computer and e-mailed them to our children and grandchildren. I’m sure this was a highlight of their day. I mean, who would have expected Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa to have a day with such a treat? Keeps ’em coming back to their e-mail since they never know what will be there from Mom/Dad, Grandma/Grandpa.

This brief interlude in our day did cause some thoughts to come to mind. Just as those geese and goslings were either unaware or unconcerned about our gawking at them and making a record of their visit with photos, we may have a lack of awareness or concern about those who may be observing our lives and making a record of what they see. As Christians, we should take note of this.

My reaction to the geese and goslings was primarily amusement and a conviction that this is what geese do. They weren’t trying to make me think they were anything but geese eating what was available as they took a stroll on a sunny afternoon. This is what geese do.

How do people who do not share our faith look at us? Are we an amusement or disappointment? Do they look at us and think that this is what Christians do? Though I found the geese to be interesting, I didn’t want to be one of them. My hope is that this is not the reaction of people when they see us as Christians.

Spontaneous turn

I’m an especially cautious driver when a cop is in sight, though even being cautious is sometimes costly. That assumes, of course, that I see the cop.

Which is not always the case.

You’re smiling already, right? You think you know what’s coming and a laugh is bubbling up inside you. Well, stifle the snicker. No ticket—this time.

The other day I was driving, taking my wife on a store-to-store quest to find a particular color of card stock she needed for a client’s printing order. Hot pink. We had been unsuccessful, and her face was flushing toward the desired color of card stock as her frustration level mounted. The paper was for a regular customer, and the order needed to be completed that day so it could be readied and mailed the next day. In other words, we were on deadline.

Our pursuit was taking us to the next stop, B&C Business Products on Ninth Street. I turned right from Main Street and headed slowly west on Ninth. Reaching the destination, I spotted open parking spaces. Of course, they were to my left and were angle parking spaces designed to be entered driving east, not west. Spontaneously, with no thought of whether it was a legal or non-legal turn and without checking my rearview mirror, I signaled a left turn and, making half a U-turn, I crossed the oncoming lane and whipped into an open parking place.

Only, then, with my pride slightly puffed up with the satisfaction of the clever maneuver, did I glance in the rearview mirror. Surprise! The car immediately behind me was a Payne County Sheriff’s Department cruiser. My puffed up pride deflated immediately in fear.

Oh, no, you dummy. You’ve done it now. A ticket for an improper turn or for something. My pastor and half the people from church will drive by while I get a ticket.

And, though I can’t verify it, I suspect that my face became the hot pink color my wife was seeking in the card stock. Oh, well, at least when we would make it into the store and a clerk asked what color card stock we needed, my wife could smile sweetly, as only she can in certain situations, point to my face, and say, “That color.”

Stifle that snicker again. Apparently my well-executed turning and parking maneuver was not illegal or, perhaps, the officer through some form of ESP perceived my plight in wanting to lower my wife’s anxiety level. Whichever, the officer cruised on westward without so much as a backwards glance at me, as near as I could tell.

Oh, by the way, B&C did have the desired color of card stock and my flushed face was not needed as a color sample.

However, in the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that not all sheriff’s deputies ride off so inattentive to me after witnessing an example of my driving skills.

Several years ago, while were still operating a weekly newspaper in Millington, TN, I was driving the company pickup en route back to town from Memphis. I reached a four-way stop and saw the deputy parked on the shoulder. There was no traffic, and I was in a bit of a rush. But, I swear, I stopped at the stop sign. Granted, it was quick stop, apparently so brief that it was imperceptible to the cop. The truck was a stick shift, and I stopped (paused?) long enough to shift down from third gear to first. Then, I continued on.

To my surprise, the deputy turned on his flashing red light, pulled me over, and asked if I knew that I had run the stop sign. I said no, but he was not convinced. It may be that my elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor, but I think I am smart enough not to knowingly run a stop sign when I see a cop poised to pounce if I do. The cop and I seemed not to agree on that opinion and he gifted me with a ticket. I remain convinced of my innocence, but when I come to a stop sign now with a cop in sight, you can be assured that my auto will be in a stopped position for a sufficient amount of time that both the officer and I will agree that I stopped. If you happen to be behind me, you likely will be on the verge of honking at me to get a move on before I move on.

At least, I’m not the only driver to pull a maneuver in front of a cop and discover that it can be costly. I read a story on the Internet today about a driver in Minnesota who swerved to miss some potholes in the road and the cop behind him ticketed the guy “for failing to stay in his lane.” The driver said he plans to fight the ticket.

The cop says the guy was using his cell phone and the driver says he was not. Will be interesting to see who gets the call on that one.

Biting off more than you can chew

For you and me, the old cliché warning about not biting off more than you can chew may be expressed in another way for certain snakes. For them, the warning may be: Don’t ingest more than you can digest.

Please understand that I am not a herpetologist (is this your word for the day?). I’m not even especially fond of snakes; and, if they are anything other than a small, usually green and wiggly, garden snake, I am much more comfortable with them dead than alive, though I wish none of them any ill will.

It is my understanding that snakes like vipers and pythons do not chew their prey before swallowing or ingesting it, nor is the food (prey) necessarily dead before somehow being gulped down. Ingested, for lack of a better word. (If you are a bit queasy about this, skip on to the next paragraph.) Once inside the snake, the prey is digested through the action of the snake’s internal juices. That’s not a scientific explanation, but you get the picture.

I have always thought there was not indigestion in this process, just the end of digestion. However, I have learned that this is not always true. Sometimes, though apparently not often, the snake, in a manner of speaking, ingests more than he or she can digest. The result is not curable by an antacid pill; the result is death.

Exhibit number one. A recent article in a scientific journal reports on an eye-catching discovery by Serbian herpetologist Ljiljana Tomovic, who was tagging snakes in Macedonia when she discovered a young viper dead with a centipede’s head protruding out of the snake’s body. It turns out that the 4.8 gram mass of the prey (the centipede), while shorter in length than the snake, was greater than the 4.2 gram of the female nose-horned viper. Talk about biting off more than you can chew, er, make that ingesting more than you can digest!

The scientist reported that possibly the snake had swallowed the centipede alive and the centipede had eaten its way through the snake, almost reaching its freedom. Dissection showed that only the snake’s abdominal wall remained, so clearly the centipede had caused damage to the snake’s internal organs either chemically or mechanically. That must have been a king-sized case of indigestion. Though it was not a supposition of the scientist, I’m wondering if part of the damage to the snake’s abdominal wall occurred because the centipede slammed on the brakes when the snake started swallowing. Remember, centipede means “100 legs” and that’s a whole bunch of braking power clawing away at the stomach lining.

But that less-than-two-foot-long viper is not the only exhibit indicating that a snake can sometimes let its eyes overload its stomach. No, siree! Back in ’05, an apparently quite hungry 13-foot-long python in the Florida Everglades swallowed a six-foot-long American alligator. Mistake. (Again, the queasy can skip on to the next paragraph.) When found, the python was dead and headless, with the mostly intact dead gator sticking out of a hole in the midsection of the snake. Wildlife researchers with the South Florida Natural Resources Center, who found the gruesome sight, said that wads of gator skin were found in the snake’s gastrointestinal tract.

One theory was that the snake’s feisty last meal might have been simply too much for it to handle. In other words, it ingested more than it could digest. Another theory, this one advanced in an animated re-creation on National Geographic News, is that the python might have survived its gorging gulp had not a second gator come to the rescue and bitten off the snake’s head. The force of the tussle, this theory suggested, is what caused the python to burst.

However, even scientists associated with the show aren’t sure this theory holds water. It was a relatively clean decapitation of the snake, and the reptile curator of the Florida Museum of Natural History in Gainesville, said that alligators don’t bite off a piece of their victims, they grab hold and roll and spin until the victim is dead.

I doubt any snakes will read this and heed the warning about not ingesting more than they can digest, but I promise that henceforth I am going to be more careful about not biting off more than I can chew when I’m at the dinner table.

Come to think of it, that might be good advice in other areas of life. Most of us, I imagine, need to be careful about failing in some endeavors or letting others down because we knowingly or unknowingly bite off more than we can chew.

Just wondering: Next time you get a touch of indigestion, will your first thought be about taking an antacid pill or about overstuffed snakes?

Big, bad bass

Sometimes, having a big mouth pays off.

Well, that may be overstating the situation, but several weeks ago a Big Mouth Billy Bass belting out a tune apparently paid off for his owner as he appears to have scared away a burglar and saved the owner of a fish and tackle store perhaps significant financial loss.

I know this sounds fishy; but, believe me, it’s a true story, not a fish tale.

When Tom Allen, owner of the Hooked on Fishing shop in Rochester, MN, arrived at his store on the morning of Feb. 6, he discovered there had been a break-in. “I saw the door had been damaged and the deadbolt had been bent to a 45-degree angle,” he said. Probably fearing the worst, he entered the store and, to his surprise, discovered that the would-be burglar had fled without taking a thing.

“There were plenty of things to take, but nothing was missing,” Sgt. Tom Claymon of the Olmsted County Sheriff’s Office said. Everything was there, including some loose cash on the counter.

While nothing was missing, not everything was in place. Big Mouth Billy Bass was no longer on duty at his wall mounting above the door to the store; he had fallen to the floor, apparently knocked there when the intruder smashed in the door. And Billy has been credited with likely being the cause of the intruder’s flight empty-handed.

Perhaps you are familiar with Big Mouth Billy Bass. You may have seen him in sporting goods stores around the country. He is a motion-activated, singing plastic bass attached to a wooden plaque.

When activated, Billy Bass begins crooning Al Green’s hit song, Take Me to the River. The Billy Bass at Tom Allen’s bait and tackle shop was mounted above the front door so that the owner would be alerted when someone entered the shop.

Perhaps not realizing that it was after hours for the shop, Billy apparently began belting out Take Me to the River when he was jarred from his perch above the doorway as the would-be burglar broke in. Mr. Allen and law enforcement agree that this apparently scared the burglar, who fled the scene, though it is unknown if he headed for the river as requested by singing Billy.

My guess is that he feared being caught and sent up the river.

I’d like to offer a moral for this story. Perhaps, something like opening our big mouth can be helpful at times. But that moral is not really there, though it is useful for each of us to remember that speaking out at the right time can be profitable. Of course, we also need to be mindful that keeping our mouth closed is often the wiser action.

One thing I am confident of is that Billy Bass would have nothing over me as a burglar alarm. I am quite convinced that if a motion-activated recording of my singing Taking Me to the River (or any song, actually) were used as a burglar alarm it would be equally as effective as Billy at causing intruder flight. Evidence of that, I think, is that when I have sung loud enough to be heard by others at church, people have been know to scoot farther away in the pew.

Cop in, not cop out for kids

Recently, two youth several states apart decided that rather than being a cop-out, they would seek action from a cop in entirely differing situations. In both situations, there was a cop-out in a manner of speaking.

In Baytown, Tex., 14-year-old Annie James spotted a police car illegally parked in her neighborhood. The car was parked in a fire zone in the Bay Oaks apartment complex.

Now, let’s be honest. Okay? Most of us, seeing a cop car illegally parked, would probably think or say something like, “If that were my car, the cop would be right there giving me a ticket.” Or, “Cops don’t think they have to live by the rules we do.” Maybe those wouldn’t be the exact quotes, but most of us would probably think or say something like that.

Certainly, we wouldn’t report the cop or say anything to him. Why not? Fear! We would be afraid of what might happen to us. Right? The cop would make a nasty or haughty comment to us or wait around the corner to nab us speeding. Probably not, but we would think that, though we might not admit to thinking it.

Not young Annie James. She took action. “He was parked on the side of the building and it was a fire lane all the way around,” she told a TV reporter. So, she took a piece of paper and made a handwritten parking ticket citing the offense and instructing the officer to pay a $10 fine to the manager of the apartment complex.

When the officer, Tommy King, returned to his patrol car, he saw the piece of paper on his windshield. He removed it, opened it and read the citation. He started laughing immediately. “I thought it was neat that she made that for $10 but not to herself,” King said to the reporter.

He was a cop in a situation, but to his credit, Officer King did not cop out. He paid the fine and also gave Annie a $40 gift card to Toys R Us. “It’s interesting,” he said. “I made a friend. A lesson would be not to be shy or afraid of law enforcement. We’re here to help.”

In Waterford, Conn., 9-year-old Isaiah McLoughlin tired of watching cars whizzing down his neighborhood street while he waited each day for the school bus. He talked to his grandmother, his primary guardian, about it. She said speeders sometimes “fly” down their residential road at speeds up to 60 mph. She suggested to Isaiah that he write a letter to the police and tell them about the speeders.

My guess is that many adults would do nothing excepts perhaps complain privately about the speeding and voice comments like, “Where’s a cop when you need one?” Or, “Maybe they’ll do something if a kid is hurt.” Isaiah opted to do something. He sent a handwritten note to the police and signed it, “Your friend, Isaiah.”

He mailed the letter on a Monday and Tuesday evening the department’s youth officer came to Isaiah’s house to discuss his concerns. She promised to pass the information to the traffic department, and Thursday morning a cop with a radar gun was stationed on the street. “He was a very busy man,” Isaiah’s grandmother said. “He just kept going back and forth with his lights on, pulling people over.”

Again, thanks to a plea from a youth, the cops were in on the situation, not copping out.

Two young people took action where many adults could have, but did not. And, despite what some may have expected, the results were positive. When reading these two stories, I couldn’t help but think how many times I have not done something I should have done either because of fear, probably unfounded, or because of lack of faith that my action would be useful or productive. How about you? Can you identify with this?