Monthly Archives: June 2019

Two New Kites, One Old Memory

by Woody

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Flying Kites Make

The Mind Soar

On a recent afternoon with spring in the breeze, something else wonderful was in the air: a kite.

Shortly, a second kite rose.

Like bookends separated by a long row of volumes, these two park scenes played out with an hour sandwiched between. Each vignette made me smile. Together, they made my heart soar as if aided by the wind and a knotted rag tail.

Before proceeding, a third kite bears mention – this one flown a quarter-century ago by my daughter, then four. It was her first kite and she had impatiently waited many days for the wind to be strong enough for a maiden flight.

If memory serves, and I am certain it does for this remains a cherished image, My Little Girl skipped to the park while happily singing the “Mary Poppins” lyrics, “Let’s go fly a kite and send it soaring. Up through the atmosphere. Up where the air is clear…”

After getting her 99-cent rainbow kite airborne, I handed the string to My Little Girl and her reaction, along with a beaming smile, was this: “Daddy, it feels like catching a big fish in the sky.”

This was a wonderful observation considering My Little Girl had never felt the tug of a fish.

Which brings me to the first kite I sighted this spring. Another little girl, perhaps six instead of four, was flying a kite decorated with a unicorn instead of a rainbow. Watching from afar, I readily imagined she also was likely thinking of fishing in the sky …

… because instead of holding a spool of cotton string, this little girl controlled her kite with a fishing rod and nylon line in a reel. What an ingenious father she had, I thought.

Too, I thought back to climbing a tree to retrieve My Little Girl’s rainbow kite after the string snapped and it fluttered into the clutches of branches. We promptly went to a kite store and got nylon “rope” as she called the heavier string.

Time passes, but not all things change. The little girl with the unicorn kite tethered by fishing line seemed as excited as if Christmas morning had arrived on a June afternoon. When the breeze held its breath too long, she handed the rod and reel to her father and skipped off to retrieve her grounded kite; held it high overhead; and then giggled when her father got it back up where the air is clear.

I could have watched this all afternoon, but too soon the happy pair departed hand-in-hand.

Not five minutes later, a second kite flyer arrived and the contrast could hardly have been more striking. Now I watched a gentleman, in his sixties I guessed, and alone; sailing a stunt kite without a fishing reel but with multiple strings that allowed him to make it zig-zag and spin and even dive to within inches of the ground before soaring again.

Again, the fishing metaphor was impossible to ignore for the gentleman was wearing a flannel shirt, stained pants and a brim hat that begged to be decorated with tied flies. Sitting in a folding beach chair, he seemed to belong lakeside or on a pier.

As the gentleman flew his kite, seated patiently as if waiting for a big fish to strike his line, my mind returned to the little girl I had just seen; then to My Little Girl; and finally I had one more lovely thought.

I imagined the gentleman’s mind was also wandering, drifting backward on the warm breeze to memories of flying a kite with his own little girl.

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FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

Masterpiece Friends Elevate Us

by Woody

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Masterpiece Friends Elevate

Us To The Clouds

“A friend,” Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, and wisely, “may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature.”

One such masterpiece in my life celebrates a milestone birthday today, having completed 60 voyages around the sun. Thinking of My Masterpiece Friend brings also to mind my first best friend throughout childhood.

Dan and my relationship got off to an odd start a year before starting kindergarten together when our moms, who were in the same bowling league, set up an introductory play date.

When Mrs. Means – parents did not have first names in the 1960s – called out for Dan to come into the family room to meet me, he did not appear. She tried again, slightly louder. Again, Dan did not show up or answer. Not one to yell, Mrs. Means directed me down the hallway to the last door on the right.

I found Dan’s room, but not Dan. From beneath the bed, however, came a soft rustling noise. I crept over, dropped to my hands and knees, and lifted the hanging bedspread. Hiding like a fox in a den, Dan was playing with G.I. Joes.

Dan gave me a Cold War reception, like I was G.I. Vladimir, and refused to come out. Meanwhile, I dared not crawl into G.I. Dan’s foxhole. Instead, my mental Kodachrome footage shows the strangest thing: I started doing pushups, counting aloud, “One, two, three … ten!”

Why in the world would I act like a mini-Jack LaLanne? I have no idea other than I was trying to impress Dan in the same manner I sometimes reacted when my two older brothers told me I was too puny to join their activities.

Dan eventually Army-crawled out from his under-the-bed bunker and we played G.I. Joes. Next, we fed his two pet gerbils – “Bruce” and “Wayne” in honor of Batman’s true identity – and then headed to the basement to play with Hot Wheels.

Murray was a four-legged masterpiece friend.

Dan and I were fast friends indeed, literally so at a go-kart speedway once. More accurately, that day I was his fast-and-reckless friend. On the opening lap I bumped his wheels while trying to pass and sent us both spinning into the grass infield. We were instantly expelled from the track. Instead of being ticked off at me, Dan laughed like Muttley the cartoon dog having a loud asthma attack.

Fast forward four decades. I met My Masterpiece Friend in similar fashion to how I met Dan. Instead of two matchmaking moms, a shared acquaintance set up a play date of sorts to introduce us. This time, I did not do any impromptu calisthenics.

“Make friendship a fine art,” John Wooden advised and in this vein My Masterpiece Friend is a modern Rembrandt. One example may serve as well as 100. Recently, our nearly 13-year-old boxer grew gravely ill with cancer. The day arrived when the only humane recourse was to have a veterinarian come to our home to relieve Murray’s suffering through euthanasia.

The vet, who had the couch-side manner of an angel, needed help lifting Murray onto the stretcher afterward. I risked aggravating a recent injury, although that pain would be preferable to having my distraught wife do the morose task.

Not to worry because My Masterpiece Friend dropped everything and rushed over. What is even more, I knew he would.

“What wealth is it to have such friends that we cannot think of them without elevation!” wrote Emerson’s great friend, Henry David Thoreau. I can still envision Dan and me kicking the clouds with our toes while soaring on the playground swings, but My Masterpiece Friend elevates me higher still.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

Advice From Dads for Father’s Day

by Woody

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Dadvice for Father’s Day

Father’s Day cards will be opened tomorrow, so it seems apropos to begin today with a Hallmark-worthy thought from Mark Twain who famously observed: “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.”

More recently, classical pianist Charles Wadworth expanded on Twain’s quip, noting: “By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong.”

Or a daughter.

My friend Barry Kibrick, host of the Emmy-winning PBS book-talk show “Between the Lines,” once told me of raising his two sons: “I never worried about over-praising them and building up their self-esteem too much because there are plenty of people in the world who will try to tear them down.”

Author Jan Hutchins had a similarly wise dad, sharing: “When I was a kid, my father told me every day, ‘You’re the most wonderful boy in the world, and you can do anything you want to.’ ”

Clarence Budington Kelland, a 20th century novelist who once described himself as “the best second-rate writer in America,” made a first-rate compliment about his own father: “He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”

Best-selling essayist Robert Fulghum put it this way: “Don’t worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you.”

American inventor Charles Kettering likewise advised, “Every father should remember one day his son will follow his example, not his advice.”

From attribution unknown comes this pearl: “One night a father overheard his son pray: ‘Dear God, Make me the kind of man my Daddy is.’ Later that night, the father prayed, ‘Dear God, Make me the kind of man my son wants me to be.’ ”

The rock band Yellowcard offers this lovely lyric about the power of a dad as a role model: “Father I will always be / that same boy who stood by the sea / and watched you tower over me / now I’m older I wanna be the same as you.”

Hall of Fame baseball player Harmon Killebrew apparently had a Hall of Fame Dad, the son recalling: “My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, ‘You’re tearing up the grass.’ Dad would reply, ‘We’re not raising grass – we’re raising boys.’ ”

A great attitude for dads of daughters as well, naturally.

Speaking of girls, John Mayer strikes the right chord with these lyrics: “Fathers, be good to your daughters. You are the god and the weight of her world.”

Getting further to the heart of the matter, John Wooden, who believed “love” is the most important word in the English language, said: “The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.”

From another basketball coach, the late Jim Valvano: “My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person – he believed in me.”

My friend and mentor Wayne Bryan, father of doubles legends Mike and Bob who are even better people than they are tennis players, advises parents: “Shout your praise to the rooftops and if you must criticize, drop it like a dandelion. On second thought, don’t criticize at all.”

In closing is a home-run thought from Hall of Fame singles hitter Wade Boggs: “Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad.”

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

Words of Wisdom For Graduates

by Woody

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Dear Class of 2019, In The Words Of . . .

            Hello, Class of 2019. I am honored and humbled to address you on this milestone occasion today. As you turn the page to the next chapter in your lives, I offer the following advice.

“Good advice is always certain to be ignored, but that’s no reason not to give it.”(1) “My advice to you is not to inquire why or dither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it’s on your plate.”(2)

“There is absolutely no reason for being rushed along with the rush.”(3) “It does not matter how slowly you go, as long as you do not stop.”(4)

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.”(5) “The secret of getting ahead is getting started.” (6) “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.”(7)

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”(8) “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ ”(9)

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”(10)

“Life is too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so love the people who treat you right. Forget about the ones who don’t, and believe that everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said that it’d be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.”(11)

“Nothing will work unless you do.”(12) “Gardens are not made by singing, ‘Oh, how beautiful,’ and sitting in the shade.”(13) “The one who plants trees, knowing that he will never sit under their shade, has at least started to understand the meaning of life.”(14)

“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.”(15) “One person can make a difference, and everyone should try.”(16) “If you don’t make an effort to help others less fortunate than you, then you’re just wasting your time on Earth.”(17)

“Never give up on a dream just because of the length of time it will take to accomplish. The time will pass anyway.”(18) “Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Try to be better than yourself.”(19)

“Don’t let making a living prevent you from making a life.”(20) “We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give.”(21) “When you get, give; when you learn, teach.”(22) “Share your knowledge. It is a way to achieve immortality.”(23) “I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.”(24)

“The fireworks begin today. Each diploma is a lighted match. Each one of you is a fuse.”(25)

“ ‘Thank you’ is the best prayer that anyone could say. I say that one a lot. Thank you expresses extreme gratitude, humility, understanding.”(26)

Thank you, and congratulations.

(1-Agatha Christie. 2-Thornton Wilder. 3-Robert Frost. 4-Confucius. 5-Arthur Ashe. 6-Mark Twain. 7-Henry David Thoreau. 8-E.E. Cummings. 9-Eleanor Roosevelt. 10-Mark Twain. 11-Bob Marley. 12-John Wooden. 13-Rudyard Kipling. 14-Rabindranath Tagore. 15-Ralph Waldo Emerson. 16-John F. Kennedy. 17-Wayne Bryan. 18-H. Jackson Brown. 19-John Steinbeck. 20-John Wooden. 21-Winston Churchill. 22-Maya Angelou. 23-Dalai Lama. 24-Emily Dickinson. 25-Edward Koch. 26-Alice Walker.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …

“Today Is The Only Day”

by Woody

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Live Today, Not in the Past or Future

            “Make each day your masterpiece” merits all the yellows in my rainbow of favorite John Wooden maxims, but it is a Woodenism in a neighboring shade of green, “Today is the only day – yesterday is gone,” that is on my mind at the moment.

Two months of todays past, I wrote a column about longtime Thousand Oaks resident Bob Fitch and his love of typewriters. More specifically, about how having learned to type in a high school class benefited him in the military in the 1950s.

Two weeks of todays after “Typing Out A Memorable Story” ran in this space, I received an email bearing a rainbow-eclipsing storm cloud. It was from Bob’s son, Dave, who wrote:

“Some sad news to share with you – my dad recently was checked into Los Robles Hospital. They determined his respiratory issues were due to a failing heart valve that had been replaced 10 years ago.

“Dad passed away on Monday. We were with him and he passed away peacefully. We are comforted and assured by God’s word, knowing he is in a far better place now. We had a lot of fun with him and we will miss him. Thanks for being a part of his life!”

After signing off, Dave added a kind postscript: “Oh, BTW – he did get to see your article and enjoyed it!”

By coincidence, serendipity, or perhaps fate, a symbiotic email arrived the very same day. This one was from my daughter, forwarding a blog of one of her favorite writers, Alexandra Franzen.

“My younger sister Olivia, my dad, and I all went out for dinner in New York City,” Franzen began. “I live in Hawaii (mostly) these days. Miss O is based in Colorado. Dad’s in California. It’s unusual that we’re together in the same location. I wanted to make the most of this rare, precious moment.”

A few paragraphs later: “I listened to my dad’s stories. I nodded when my sister spoke. I smiled when it was appropriate to smile. I politely thanked the waiter for each item. But, to be honest, I wasn’t completely in the room. My mind was only halfway present.”

After sharing a laundry list of her distractions, Franzen shared an epiphany moment: “While collecting our coats at the exit, the restaurant hostess smiled at me and said, ‘It’s wonderful that you got to have dinner with your dad tonight.’

“ ‘Yeah, uh huh, for sure,’ I said, or something to that effect. Only half-listening. In a thick fog. Rummaging around in my bag for a stick of gum.

“ ‘My dad died last year,’ the hostess added, very quietly. Her voice was so soft, nearly drowned out by the din of the bustling restaurant. ‘I miss him every day.’

“I looked up, meeting her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry.’

“I stepped outside and immediately linked elbows with my dad, holding him very, very close as we walked arm in arm back to the hotel. Sometimes, I fall asleep in the middle of my own life. Until something, or someone, reminds me to wake up.”

Franzen concluded with this sagacious advice: “If there’s something you want to do, do it now. If there’s something you want to say, say it now. If you’re reading this on a phone in your bed, put down your device and hold your partner instead. The emails can wait. One day, all of this ends. But for now, here we are. And today is not over yet.”

In other words, in John Wooden’s timeless words, “There is only today – yesterday is gone.”

And tomorrow is not promised.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …