Author Archives: Woody

Rubicon is a Local Pearl

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Pearl Shines Brightly

Under Stage Lights

From the Ventura Pier up to Two Trees and back down to the San Buenaventura Mission, we have more local treasures than could be strung on a necklace. One of these pearls, I was reminded last Saturday night, is The Rubicon Theatre Company.

“World-class artistry, small-town hospitality” is more than a slogan, it is true. At the Rubicon’s Will Call, no ID is required. In the intimate 185 seats, or the long lines at intermission for the two small restrooms, you are likely to see a friend, neighbor or co-worker.

As for big-time artistry, consider David Aron Damane, who recently played Jim in the musical “Big River: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.” His resume is nearly as long as the mighty Mississippi.

(While “Big River” has now run its course at the Rubicon, “Forever Plaid: Plaid Tidings” followed by “Forever Motown” are next up.)

A take-a-deep-breath summary of Damane’s credits features a handful of Broadway plays, including “The Book of Mormon” and “Riverdance; national tours of “The Color Purple” and “The Who’s Tommy” among many others; performing in Shakespeare’s “Macbeth” and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”; and guest-starring on enough hit TV shows to fill up a DVR’s memory.

Exceptional as Damane is, his performing experience is not the exception for the professional talent the Rubicon regularly attracts. Importantly, the Rubicon also nurtures emerging local talent. For example, Cheyenne Green, who played a slave (and was also understudy for Alice and Alice’s daughter) in her Rubicon debut in “Big River”, was raised in Simi Valley.

Furthermore, as a community pearl, the Rubicon further nurtures the performing arts with after-school, weekend and summer programs for kids as young as age 5. Too, it offers opportunities for students to experience everything from playwriting and acting to directing and design.

Among the big-time artistry the Rubicon has offered in its 21 years to date, I have been fortunate to see more than a dozen of its plays. These memorably include “Our Town” by Thornton Wilder, “The Diary of Anne Frank” and Arthur Miller’s “All My Sons.” I dare say “Big River” is my favorite. More accurately, it affected me the most, and isn’t that the highest calling of art?

Written 136 years ago, the themes of “Big River” – prejudice, injustice, cruelty, heartbreak – remain timeless and relevant, now perhaps as greatly as ever. Critically, the decision was made by the Rubicon to keep in the ugliest language from Twain’s masterpiece. These dark words and moments were powerfully enlightening.

As I mentioned, Damane’s performance was masterful. The handful of times I have read “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” my mind’s eye saw Jim as slim and rawboned. On my next future rereading, however, I will envision the runaway slave in the mold of a football linebacker because Damane appears to have stepped onstage straight from an NFL field. Indeed, Twain’s Jim, the Rubicon’s Jim, is now my Jim.

To see Jim under a stage spotlight, so near and so real, shackled in iron chains made my heart figuratively weep as reading the novel never has. Moreover, my eyes literally began to well up during the play’s scene where Jim shares with Huck the time his young daughter, Lizabeth, ignored his order to close an open door.

When Lizabeth disobeyed the repeated command, Jim slapped her hard in reprimand. Suddenly, a gust of wind slammed the door shut directly behind Lizabeth – yet she did not even flinch. Jim painfully realized that scarlet fever has left his daughter deaf.

As Jim wept with self-torment in the retelling, my tears flowed like a Big River.

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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” …

 

Holiday Sports Ball Drive Tips Off

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Woody’s Holiday Ball Drive

Tips Off Honoring Cowan

            Some things can be counted on like clockwork: Flowers and birdsong arriving in spring, sunburns coming in summertime, colors changing and leaves falling in autumn.

And, in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, Jim Cowan being the first person to donate to my annual Holiday Sports Ball Drive. Always, he donated ten basketballs because the sport was especially dear to him. He played on an undefeated CIF championship team at Ventura High under legendary coach Bob Tuttle in 1949; on two state championship teams at Ventura College; at Whittier College; and while serving in the military he played on the Far East Army All-Star Team.

Always, also, Cowan dedicated his gift basketballs in honor of coaches and teachers and other individuals who had played an important role in his life.

A few of the hundreds of balls from last year’s drive.

This year, sadly, birds have fallen silent and leaves seem gray. The first ten basketballs will not be contributed by James F. Cowan because the longtime former Ventura County Superintendent of Schools died this past March at age 87.

However, the first ten basketballs to tip off this year’s Ball Drive still have Cowan’s fingerprints on them: I am making the donation in his honor. Perhaps there is a special person or role model, loved one or friend, deceased or still living, you wish to honor with a donation of a sports ball?

The Ball Drive also has the fingerprints of another former Ventura College basketball player, Cedric Ceballos. About 20 years ago, I was at a local youth basketball clinic when the NBA All-Star presented autographed basketballs to a handful of lucky attendees.

Leaving the gym afterward, I happened upon a 10-year-old boy who won one of the prized keepsakes – which he was dribbling on the rough blacktop outdoor court, and shooting baskets with, while perhaps imagining himself to be Ceballos.

Meanwhile, the real Ceballos’ Sharpie signature was wearing off.

Curious why the boy had not carefully carried the trophy basketball home and put it safely on a bookshelf, I interrupted his playing to ask.

“I’ve never had my own basketball,” he answered matter-of-factly between shots.

That Christmastime, thinking of that boy – and other boys and girls who do not have their own basketball to shoot, soccer ball to kick, football to throw – Woody’s Holiday Ball Drive was born.

Once again, I am encouraging you dear readers to join in by dropping off a new sports ball – or balls – at any local Boys & Girls Club, YMCA, youth club or church and they will find a worthy young recipient.

Or drop balls off (weekdays from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. through Dec. 20) at Jensen Design & Survey at 1672 Donlon St. near Target on Telephone Road in Ventura, or have online orders shipped to the same address, and I will take it from there. Among those who will receive a ball and a smile thanks to your generosity will be Ventura County Foster Kids at their annual holiday party.

Clubs and groups can also make it a collective endeavor. For example, once again the Camarillo/Somis Pleasant Valley Lions Club has pledged to donate 33 footballs, 33 soccer balls and 34 basketballs.

Also, please email me about your gift at woodywriter@gmail.com so I can add your generosity to this year’s tally.

With his donation last year, Jim Cowan noted his deep belief in “the Golden Rule” and to “love your neighbor as yourself” concluding: “I am 87 now and these principles have guided me and my family over all of these years.”

These worthy principles also apply to everyone who donates to this year’s Ball Drive.

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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” …

By The Way, “I Like Your Hat.”

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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By The Way,

“I Like Your Hat.”

            My late mentor and longtime steward of this space, Chuck Thomas, believed in taking the day off now and again and filling his column with words borrowed from others. In this spirit, here are three stories I read recently that I hope will lift your spirits as they did mine.

Christine Turel, who works at an independent bookstore, shared this encounter:

“Middle of the day this little old lady comes up. Then this college kid comes up in line behind her. She turns around to him and, out of nowhere, demands that he put his textbooks on the counter. He’s confused, but she explains she’s going to buy his textbooks.

“He goes sheetrock white. He refuses and adamantly insists she can’t do that. It’s like, $400 worth of textbooks. She, this tiny old woman, boldly takes them out of his hands, throws them on the counter and turns to me with an intense stare and tells me to put them on her bill. The kid at this point is practically in tears. He’s confused and shocked and grateful. Then she says ‘you need chocolate.’ She starts grabbing handfuls of chocolates and puts them in her pile.

“He keeps asking her, ‘Why are you doing this?’ She responds, ‘Do you like Harry Potter?’ and throws a copy of the new Cursed Child on the pile, too.

“Finally she’s done and I ring her up for a crazy amount of money. While I’m bagging up her merchandise, the kid hugs her.

“She turns to both of us and says probably one of the most profound, unscripted things I’ve ever had someone say: ‘It’s important to be kind. You can’t know all the times that you’ve hurt people in tiny, significant ways. It’s easy to be cruel without meaning to be. There’s nothing you can do about that. But you can choose to be kind.’ ”

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This came from a Facebook post by “The ‘Pay It Forward’ Effect”:

“As I was pulling into work, I was following this car. The sign in the back window says, ‘Learning stick sorry for any delay.’

“Knowing this information, I was very patient with their slow shifting. Then I asked myself a tough question: Would I have been just as patient if the sign hadn’t been there? I can almost definitely say no.

“We don’t know what someone is going through. We don’t wear signs that illustrate our personal struggles. We don’t see signs taped to people’s shirts that say, ‘Going through a divorce’ or ‘Lost a child’ or ‘Feeling depressed’ or ‘Diagnosed with cancer.’

“But we shouldn’t have to see signs and have reasons to treat strangers with kindness. We should do it anyway, whether we know what is going on or not.”

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A brief essay by Danusha Lameris titled “Small Kindness” echoes the wisdom above:

“I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs to let you by. Of how strangers still say ‘bless you’ when someone sneezes, a leftover from the Bubonic plague. ‘Don’t die,” we are saying. And sometimes, when you spill lemons from your grocery bag, someone else will help you pick them up.

“We have so little of each other, now. So far from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange. What if they are the true dwelling of holy, these fleeting temples we make together when we say, ‘Here, have my seat,” “Go ahead – you first,” “I like your hat.”

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By the way, dear reader, I like your hat.

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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” …

Tale of two trees, lower case

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Tale of two trees,

lower case

This is a story of two trees, lower case, not Ventura’s famous “Two Trees” holding sentinel high on a hillside overlooking the city below.

In the city below, at a public park, grow two trees that are separated not by a few paces, as with our landmark tandem, but by the ball’s flight of a major league home run. Despite their distance apart, the two trees stand united in how they are tended.

Let me begin with the taller tree of the lower-case pair. It is not majestic in height, perhaps twice taller than a man, but makes up for it with an explosion of foliage. This abundance of leaves is surprising, if not almost magical, because the tree rises in a hard-packed dirt field beyond reach of sprinklers.

As you might imagine, recent years of drought were not kind to the tree and it became sickly. In truth, it nearly died. To the rescue, thankfully, came a guardian angel – or, rather, an amateur arboriculturist.

Ventura’s famous “Two Trees” holding sentinel.

This timber guardian is a middle-aged man. He parks his car, ironically often under the shade of a much grander tree, and strolls over to the once-sickly tree. With him he carries a jug of water, sometimes two, which he pours with care at the base of the tree’s truck.

Every time I watch this benevolent act – always from afar, for to intrude would seem like interrupting someone at prayer – it brings birdsong to my heart. Too, it always makes me recall this thought from John Wooden: “The true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one is watching.”

Or, when he thinks no one is watching.

As I observe, the wise words of Nelson Henderson, who died more than three-quarters of a century ago, also come to my mind: “The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit.”

Or, to water them.

Exemplifying Henderson’s words even more exactly is a second man. He is a bit younger than the first and is caretaker of a smaller tree; a tree with a thin trunk splitting in two near its base; a tree he actually planted. I know the latter fact because our paths crossed once while he was tending it and we got to talking.

I will not tell you where this tree is specifically located because it is not supposed to be there. Honestly, it looks perfectly placed and the spot would be empty without it. If you ask me, planners of the park should have planted a tree here themselves.

Since they did not, the second man did. Importantly, he did so in memory of his deceased dog that he used to take for walks nearby. Every few weeks, the caretaker comes by and waters the little tree. When need be, he clears away dead leaves. Now and again, he adds fertilizer. One can easily envision the tender love his dog received.

I wish you could see these two men at work – no, at service, for their efforts bring beauty for countless others to enjoy. Perhaps you have seen them during their service. Even when the clouds are out, “their” two trees bring sunshine to my day.

As I said, these two trees are not the grandest by any measure. But the story behind them is as lovely as Joyce Kilmer’s well-know poem “Trees” with the famous closing couplet: “Poems are made by fools like me, / But only God can make a tree.”

And sometimes it still takes a person, or two, to tend them with care.

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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” …

Out-of-the-Box Costumes

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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These Halloween Costumes

Would Be Fun To See

Spoiler alert for what will come knocking on your front door this Halloween. According to Google search information compiled by marketing trends provider SEMrush, the 10 most-popular Halloween costumes this year promise to be: Fortnite, Spider-Man, Harley Quinn, Wonder Woman, Black Panther, Deadpool, Harry Potter, Catwoman, Pennywise and Kim Kardashian.

I have to admit, I thought “Fortnite” must be a character from a Shakespeare play but it turns out to be a popular video game. Pennywise, I assume, is Dollar Foolish’s sister.

Speaking of dollar foolish, according to the National Retail Federation, U.S. shoppers this year will spend $8.8 billion – $86.27 per person – on candy, decorations and costumes. This includes costumes for pets with Pumpkin, Batman and Lion being the three most popular for our four-legged friends.

Instead of trendy ready-made costumes from a box, here are some outside-the-box Halloween outfits I’d like to see ring my doorbell this Thursday evening . . .

Every shelter dog and cat dressed up as a Pumpkin or Lion and sleeping on an adopted lap.

Amazon’s Alexa costumed as a helpful librarian and vice-versa.

My laptop computer as John Steinbeck’s Hermes Baby typewriter.

The Dodgers, dusting off a 32-year-old costume stored in an attic trunk, dressed up as World Series champions.

The iPhone11 Pro Max in a costume as a rotary rPhone1961.

Similarly, a family out for meal in a restaurant dressed as Amish Mennonites without everyone having his or her attention focused on a smartphone screen.

Ojai climate activist Kristofer Young in a costume as Greta Thunburg.

John Wooden’s Pyramid of Success dressed up as the USDA Food Pyramid and the Food Pyramid dressed up as a Fourth of July red-white-and-blue paper plate stacked with hotdogs and potato salad.

Every cancer patient dressed up as cured.

Ventura County’s brown hillsides in a costume as Ireland’s emerald landscape.

Firemen, nurses, cops and teachers dressed up as Justice League heroes like Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash and Green Lantern.

Every drunk driver dressed up as a taxi, Uber or Lyft passenger.

Camarillo’s Mike and Bob Bryan, the greatest doubles team in tennis history, dressed identically as the Wrigley Doublemint Twins.

My former Star columnist colleague Colleen Cason dressed up as an author with a book on The New York Times Best Sellers List.

Lakers’ dynamic duo LeBron James and Anthony Davis as Batman and Robin.

Ventura County, with its amazing collection of craft breweries, dressed up as a famous mirco-brew destination like Bend Oregon or Denver.

Jack In The Box pitchman Jack dressed up as Ronald McDonald; Ronald Mac in a costume as Conan O’Brien; and Conan as The Great Pumpkin.

Tom Brady in a costume as Father Time.

Ageless Venturan running legend Ed Wehan, finisher of more than 120 marathons (with a PR of 2 hours, 36 minutes at age 40) and dozens of ultras (including seventh place in the granddaddy Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run four decades ago) dressed up as an inductee of The Ventura County Sports Hall of Fame.

Throwaway plastic milk jugs dressed up as “Leave It To Beaver” milkman era throwback returnable glass bottles.

Singer Ed Sheeran as Prince Harry and vice-versa.

Meanwhile, according to Google Freightgeist, the least popular candy – “vehemently hate” is the description used – handed out this year promises to be the same as it was when I was Trick-or-Treating in the 1960s: candy corn.

Which reminds me of what a friend once told me about the proper way to eat candy corn: tear the package open, dump it in the trash can, and then have a Milky Way.

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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” …

A Smile, A Wink, And A Hug

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Grateful For A Smile,

A Wink, And A Hug

            Do you ever feel like the universe smiles at you, winks at you, even gives you an unexpected hug? This recently happened to me, in order, on three successive days.

I will begin with the smile. It came in Gilroy, which is ironic because ever since the mass shooting last July, passing through the Garlic Capital of the World has made my spirits frown.

Stopping for gas, I needed to use the restroom. On my way to the convenience store entrance, I passed a young man sitting on the sidewalk with his nose in a paperback novel. I guessed him to be in his final teen years, early 20s at the oldest. Too, I guessed him to be homeless.

The air-conditioned chill inside was heavenly on a baking afternoon and although I hadn’t intended to buy anything, I grabbed a cold bottle of Coke.

I wish you could have seen the smile that greeted me when I interrupted the young man’s reading and handed him the soda.

“Thank you so much, sir,” he said, beaming far wider than my small gesture merited. I can see that smile in my mind’s eye still.

The wink came the following day, in Oakland, where my son lives. Overwhelmed by the list of 35 offerings on tap at Crooked City Cider, and with no one else in line, I fell into conversation with the woman behind the counter. She turned out to be the owner and steered me expertly to a tasty sampler selection.

A happy hour or so later when I went to close out the tab for our group of seven, I ordered one final four-ounce sampler. The owner returned with a PINT glass filled so full that surface tension allowed the nectar to bow above the rim.

“That’s a generous pour,” I said.

She winked and replied, “Seeing your family’s joy together made me happy.”

The hug came on Sunday, in Fremont, and for the third time a beverage was involved.

When I visit my daughter, I like to run at a nearby community park of sports fields. In the far corner, there’s a tree under whose shade I always hide a bottle of Gatorade so as to keep hydrated. On the way there this time I stopped at a porta-potty to un-hydrate, if you will. Not seeing anyone around, I left the full bottle outside on the ground.

A short moment later when I exited, an elderly woman was pouring my Gatorade on the grass and putting the plastic bottle in her recycling garbage bag. Seeing my exasperation, she apologized profusely.

I felt guilty for her sincere contrition. After all, it was my bone-headedness that was to blame, not hers. With a trash can only a few yards away, it was only natural she assumed my Gatorade had been discarded.

She offered to fetch a replacement drink from her van and pointed at the parking lot a quarter-mile away. I politely declined despite her insistence, for it was a long walk and she appeared frail. I told her I would hunt for a drinking fountain instead.

Off I ran on a mile-long loop around the fields.

The third time I circled around to where I started, the woman was waiting for me with a new bottle of coconut water. It was an unnecessary act of kindness and I wished I had a couple dollars tucked in my sock to repay her.

Instead, I offered her a sweaty hug which she happily accepted.

That coconut water was even sweeter than the Crooked City Cider nectar, and that’s saying something.

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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” …

National Book Month In One Day

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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National Book Month

List In One Day

Well, this isn’t the first time I’ve been late to a party. October is National Book Month and a friend invited me to join a 31-day challenge. Below, in one day, is my full month of answers.

Had I replied to the prompts yesterday, there’s a good chance half my answers might be different; tomorrow, perhaps the other half would change. I hope you are inspired you to come up with your own list.

Day 1 – The Best Book You’ve Read This Year: Tie between “The Nickel Boys” by Colson Whitehead and “This Tender Land” by William Kent Krueger.

Day 2 – A Book That You’ve Read More than Three Times: “The Old Man and the Sea” by Ernest Hemingway.

Day 3 – Your Favorite Series: “The Famous Bedtime Story Books” by Thornton Burgess.

Day 4 – Favorite Book of Your Favorite Series: “The Adventures of Buster Bear.”

Day 5 – A Book That Makes You Happy: Most any Dr. Seuss book.

Day 6 – A Book That Makes You Sad: “Old Yeller” by Fred Gipson.

Day 7 – Most Underrated Book: “Sweet Tuesdays” by John Steinbeck.

Day 8 – Most Overrated Book: I don’t think a book can be overrated, but Ann Patchett’s new offering, “The Dutch House”, didn’t lived up to the hype for me.

Day 9 – A Book You Thought You Wouldn’t Like But Ended Up Loving: “Lincoln in the Bardo” by George Saunders.

Day 10 – Favorite Classic Book: “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by some fella named Mark Twain.

Day 11 – A Book You Hated: Knowing the effort every writer puts into a book, my lips are sealed.

Day 12 – A Book You Used to Love But Don’t Anymore: My crushes all remain intact.

Day 13 – Your Favorite Writer: John Steinbeck is a close second behind my daughter Dallas Woodburn.

Day 14 – Book From Your Favorite Writer: “The Grapes of Wrath” by Steinbeck and “Woman, Running Late, In A Dress” by Woodburn.

Day 15 – Favorite Male Character: Atticus Finch (I have not read “Go Set a Watchman.”)

Day 16 – Favorite Female Character: Charlotte A. Cavatica.

Day 17 – Favorite Quote: “Isn’t it pretty to think so?” Final line of “The Son Also Rises” by Hemingway.

Day 18 – First “Chapter Book” You Can Remember Reading As A Child: “Charlotte’s Web.”

Day 19 – Favorite Book Turned Into A Movie (I’ll add the stipulation “good” movie): The Harry Potter series.

Day 20 – Book That Makes You Laugh Out Loud: “A Walk In The Woods” by Bill Bryson.

Day 21 – Favorite Book From Your Childhood: “Where the Wild Things Are” by Maurice Sendak.

Day 22 – Book You’re Currently Reading: “Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore” by Robin Sloan and halfway through, I’m loving it.

Day 23 – Your Guilty Pleasure: Anything by Robert Fulghum.

Day 24 – A Book You Wish More People Would Read: “Fog” by Ken McAlpine; “We Stood Upon Stars” by Roger W. Thompson; and “Wooden & Me” by me!

Day 25 – Favorite Book You Read In School: “To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee.

Day 26 – Favorite Autobiography: “They Call Me Coach” by John Wooden.

Day 27 – The Most Surprising Plot Twist or Ending: “Life of Pi” by Yann Martel.

Day 28 – Favorite Title: “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs” by Judi Barrett.

Day 29 – A Book Few Have Heard Of That You Loved: “The Snow Goose” by Paul Gallico.

Day 30 – Book on the top of your To Read Next Pile: “The Goldfinch” by Donna Tartt.

Day 31 – Favorite Book: Impossible! But if I must try, a tie between Hemingway’s “The Old Man and the Sea” and “Travels with Charley” by Steinbeck.

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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” …

Trying To Be Like My Grandpa

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Still Trying To Be

Like My Grandpa

            October 5 was the birth date of my Grandpa Ansel, the only grandparent I knew, so he is especially on my mind today. I was only 7 when he died, yet he lives on in my memories and core values.

An art assignment when I was in the first grade goes a long way in telling you about my grandpa.

“And who is this?” asked Miss Bower, studying my crayon portrait response to her prompt: “Who is the most important person in the world?”

“My grandpa,” six-year-old-me replied, matter-of-factly, as though it were so obvious no answer should have been required.

“All your classmates drew portraits of President Johnson,” Miss Bower noted, adding: “Your grandpa must be very special.”

Me: “Yeah, he’s pretty ginchy.”

To be honest, the thought of drawing a portrait of the President of the United States never crossed my mind. In truth, I wondered why my friends had not drawn pictures of their grandpas.

Grandpa Ansel with me (red shirt) and my two brothers.

After all, it wasn’t the President who patiently showed me how to bait a fishhook. Certainly the President had never set down his fly rod to calmly help me untangle a bird’s nest of fishing line in a backlashed spinning reel.

It wasn’t the President who taught me other important things a boy needs to know, like how to skip flat stones across the water; how to whistle; and how to pound nails without bending them.

The President never gave me a ginchy handcrafted wooden toolbox for my fifth birthday – or taught me funny old-fashioned words like “ginchy” which means “cool.”

“Grandpa, how come you don’t use worms like I do?” I once asked while “helping” him tie a fly in his basement fantasyland workshop of tools and endless jars filled with fishhooks, feathers, fur and other paraphernalia.

“Oh, it takes a mighty skillful fisherman like yourself to catch a fish with a worm,” he answered. “That’s why you always catch big fish while I catch the little ones. I’d better stick to using flies if I want to have a chance to keep up with you.”

“Okay, Grandpa – but if you change your mind, I’ll share my worms with you.”

Grandpa shared lots of important things with me, like how to look a man in the eye when you shake hands; The Golden Rule; and that little boys in Russia are the same as little boys in America, this being during the Cold War.

“Which way is the wind blowing?” I would ask Grandpa whenever we went fishing. Before answering, he would moisten his index finger in his mouth and then dramatically extend it high in the air as I mimicked him.

Upon seeing which side of his finger-turned-weather-vane dried first, Grandpa would whistle-hum happily before responding: “I do believe it’s blowing from the west.”

Always, the wind was blowing from the west.

Always, this excited me and I would then recite by heart a poem Grandpa had taught me:

“When the wind is from the north, / The wise fisherman does not go forth.

“When the wind is from the south, / It blows the hook into the fish’s mouth.

“When the wind is from the east, / ’Tis not fit for man nor beast.

“But when the wind is from the west, / The fishing is the very best.”

Growing up, I wanted to be like Grandpa Ansel; ten months ago, I truly became like him – a grandpa. With fishing as a metaphor, I want my granddaughter Maya to always feel like the wind is blowing from the west when we’re spending time together.

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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” …

Autumn Comes Knocking

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Autumn Comes Knocking

On The Front Door

            Were you, like me, caught off guard by a guest who came knocking on your front door this past Monday?

Even though I was expecting her, she still seemed to arrive surprisingly early. Yet when I checked the clock – the calendar, actually – it turned out she was perfectly on time: September 23.

Yes, autumn is here.

Truly, I should have heard her pull into the driveway. After all, for the past few weeks dawn has suddenly had a pleasant chill to it.

At the least, I should have heard her walking up the front sidewalk a moment before she knocked. I mean, the setting sun has seemed in a race lately to bring twilight noticeably a little sooner each evening. Goodness, I’ve even had to turn on my car headlights many evenings, something that in summer only seems necessary on a late night out.

Oh, how I love summer and will miss her dearly. In the eyes of my youth, it was without question No. 1 of the four seasons. Top two reasons: warm weather and no school.

Presently, however, if you asked me my favorite season I could not say. It is a fool’s errand of a question, a Sophie’s choice. It is like asking me to choose between Steinbeck, Hemingway and Twain. Impossible.

Spring, for starters, is blooming flowers and flying kites and, as Tennyson observed, when young men’s fancies turn to thoughts of love – so what’s not to love about the season?

Yet summer is beach outings and pool parties and vacations of travel and ice cream cones and bike rides – again, what’s not to love?

Winter, meanwhile, is cozy fires and family gatherings, sledding and snowboarding, mistletoe and Auld Lang Syne, and the New Year’s promise of approaching spring – how can you not love all that?

Thus, my favorite season is whichever one is currently visiting. And right now that is autumn. Many call it “fall”, but I think “autumn” is lovelier. By either name, its arrival brings with it …

A crispness in the air, even on our Golden Coast, that is invigorating.

Markets and coffee shops offering limited-edition Pumpkin Spice This, Pumpkin Spice That, Pumpkin Everything!

Hayrides and pumpkin patches and children spending half an hour, or longer, selecting The Perfect Pumpkin for a jack-o-lantern with all the care of a bride choosing her wedding dress and shoes.

Linus and The Great Pumpkin.

Carving jack-o-lanterns, going trick-or-treating, and having an excuse as a grown-up to dress up like Batman or Cat Woman.

Comfort foods such as homemade soups, chili and cornbread, marshmallows toasted over a fire, pumpkin pie/bread/pudding/cookies/coffee.

Leaves that show their true colors, not in the widespread explosions of oranges and reds and golds that our East Coast and Midwest friends enjoy, but in a way our limited-edition outbursts of Monet-worthy leaves-scapes here make them all the more precious and beautiful.

Speaking of leaves, autumn’s arrival always transports my mind’s eye back to a giant pile of leaves that took forever to rake together. It was in my friend Dan’s well-wooded backyard, back in Ohio of my boyhood, back when I was about 8.

Above the pile of leaves rose a colossal tree and from a strong branch hung a rope tied to an old tractor tire. We took turns pushing each other on that tire swing, soaring higher and higher still, before launching ourselves airborne and flying towards a giggling crash landing on Mother Nature’s leafy mattress of red and orange and gold.

Yes, right now I love autumn best.

Until winter rings my doorbell on December 21.

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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” …

This, That, Baseball and Batman

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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This, That, Baseball and Batman

Shooting from the hip on a hair-triggered keyboard…

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            Will self-driving cars be programmed to leave turn signals on mile after mile just for old time’s sake?

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For the love of Lou Boudreau! (Google him) I beg Cody Bellinger and all Major League batters to please, when the defense puts on an infield shift, poke or slap the ball to the opposite field and take all the singles you can get until they stop shifting!

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            Add baseball: My much-better-half was watching her beloved Dodgers on TV the other night and after the broadcast duo blathered on blah blah blah even more than usual, in rare total exasperation she sighed, “God, I miss Vin Scully!”

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            Speaking of The Golden Voice and my wife…

Nineteen summers ago was Scully’s 50th season behind the mic and in the press box before a game I asked him for an interview in the coming days.

True to his word, he phoned me at home a couple days later to set something up and my wife answered the phone.

“This is Vin Scully,” the caller said, needlessly identifying himself because his voice was unmistakable. “May I speak to Woody?”

Unfortunately, I was out and more unfortunately had not mentioned that I was expecting the call.

Most unfortunate of all, my wife assumed it was one of my goofy friends imitating Scully and joked in reply, “Who is this really?” and then playfully hung up.

The classy Scully phoned right back, to the great chagrin of my wife, who instantly realized her mistake and apologized before telling him when she expected me home.

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            More Scully. My writing idol, Jim Murray, was receiving an honor at the Beverly Hills Hotel and because of some good luck I was in attendance.

And because of some beverages, I was later in the men’s room when in walked Scully. He greeted another person who was leaving and his trademark voice echoed off the tiled walls as rich and melodic as a cello in Carnegie Hall.

I remember laughing to myself, imagining Scully doing the play-by-play right then and there: “Kirk Gibson steps up to the urinal, takes his stance…”

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            One final Scully memory. At the end of my interview with him in the press box hours before the first pitch, I sheepishly asked Scully to do a play-by-play radio call with me at bat. He asked who I wanted on the mound and without hesitation I said the great Bob Gibson.

Oh, how I wish I’d used a tape recorder for interviews back then instead of notepads. No matter, in my mind’s ear I can still hear the imaginary broadcast as “Woodburn fouls off another fastball and works the count to deuces wild – two balls, two strikes, two out with two men on.”

I still half-expected Scully to impishly have me strike out, but instead my Major League career batting average is a perfect 1-for-1 with an RBI line-drive single to left field in Dodger Stadium.

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            For some of us, who wore a bath towel pinned around their neck throughout kindergarten, today is a super holiday: Batman Day.

This year’s official occasion marks the 80th anniversary of DC Comic’s Dark Knight and will be celebrated around the world. Indeed, the Bat Signal will be lighted in Tokyo, Berlin, Paris, Barcelona, London, Montreal, Mexico City, New York, Los Angeles – and perhaps a kindergartener-still-at-heart’s home in Ventura.

Let me close with this wisdom from a poster that says it all: “Always be yourself, unless you can be Batman, then always be Batman!”

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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” …