Thank a Teacher

STRAW_CoverWoody’s new book STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter is available for Pre-Order HERE NOW! In time for the holidays!

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Never Too Late to Thank a Teacher

Some things never change. I have been out of school for three decades, but once more I am turning in an assignment late. California’s 17th annual Retired Teachers Week was last week.

Um, my dog deleted my laptop doc.

Seriously, even belatedly is a good time to reach out by letter, email, phone or Facebook to let your own favorite teachers – retired or not – know the impact they had on you.1teach

If, sadly, they have passed away, then honor them by mentoring someone else – for, as John Wooden said: “Mentoring is your true legacy. It is the greatest inheritance you can give to others.”

Like most of us, I was blessed with some terrific teachers including a select few true life-changers. One such benefactor was my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Hutchings, who challenged me to be a leader with my voice not just my actions.

“I would like to see Woody be less of an independent entity in the classroom and more inclined to lead his fellow man,” she wrote on my report card in 1972. Part of my difficulty was that for the first time ever neither of my two best friends, Jim Hendrix and Dan Means, was in my class.

Kindly, Mrs. Hutchings also offered written praise: “Woody has a delightful sense of humor and a sense of fair play that is very unusual for his age.”

According to that report card, math was my strong suit while English was my shortcoming: “Woody does an outstanding job on reports but his vocabulary words and spelling limit his grades.”

Despite these deficiencies, Mrs. Hutchings encouraged me to be the editor of the “newspaper” she helped our class publish that spring. Perhaps this was also her way of nurturing my leadership growth.

Perhaps, too, her mentorship is responsible for you reading these words today.

Long after I last left her classroom, I received a letter out of the blue from Mrs. Hutchings, by then retired. She had seen my long-form feature “The Toughest Miler Ever” about American Olympian, World War II hero and POW survivor, Louie Zamperini, that appeared in The Best American Sports Writing 2001. She complimented the piece and said she was pleased and proud to learn I had become a writer.

I wrote back and told her, much too belatedly, that she had been a special teacher in my life. I also shared the words Coach Wooden had sent to me in response to the first of many columns I would write about him: “Although it is often used without true feeling, when it is used with sincerity, no collection or words can be more expressive or meaningful than the very simple word – Thanks!”

In middle school, Harold McFadden was another life-changing teacher. I had “Coach Mac” for Physical Education in five of my six semesters at Balboa Junior High. More than sports, he taught me about goal setting, believing and achieving.

12teachAs often happens, even with our dearest mentors, we fall out of touch and such was the case with Coach Mac. It saddens me that I did not stop by my old school to see him during my visits home to Ventura after I went off to college and beyond. Now, curses to cancer, it is too late.

For the most part, the names of my teachers at Balboa, Buena High and UC Santa Barbara have faded from memory. Three – one from each school – who remain indelible for their lasting impact are Mr. Howell, an inspiring metal shop teacher; Joe Vaughan, a role model in all ways; and John Ridland, an English professor who broke down the poetry of Robert Frost and more importantly built up my confidence as a writer.

My Favorite Teacher Ever, however, the one who in the words of Frost truly “made all the difference,” was in my post-graduate studies “Life 101” class taught by Professor John Robert Wooden.

Wooden preferred to be thought of as a “teacher” not a “coach.” By either title, none taught me more – or more-important things – than he. I am thankful I told him so before it was too late.

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Wooden&Me_cover_PRWoody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Check out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

Halloween Suggestions

STRAW_CoverWoody’s new book STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter is available for Pre-Order HERE NOW!

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Trick-or-Treaters I’d Like to See

Spoiler alert for tonight. According to Google Freightgeist, the 10 most-popular Halloween costumes nationwide this year are: Harley Quinn, Star Wars, Superhero, Pirate, Batman, Minnie Mouse, Witch, Minions, Joker, and Wonder Woman.

Harley Quinn

Harley Quinn

I don’t know about you, but this list raised a couple questions for me, the first being: Who, or what, is Harley Quinn? A new motorcycle? After a Google search I learned that Harley Quinn, aka Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel, M.D., is a DC Comics character and adversary of Batman.

As for her why her costume ranks No. 1, well, I’m guessing adult women more than girls account for this as Quinn is basically The Joker version of The Sexy Nurse costume.

My second question: Isn’t it redundant for Google Freightgeist to list “Superhero” when Batman and Wonder Woman are also ranked? And where in he world is Superman?

Google Freightgeist also has an interesting map showing popularity by region and city. Ventura does not appear, but Santa Barbara’s Top 5 are: Sexy Pirate, Sexy Snow White, Sexy Lion, Sexy Gray Wolf, and Sexy Doll. (Note: I added the Sexy after Googling these costumes that are obviously marketed for women.)

Indeed, unlike when I was a kid, Halloween has become a national holiday for adults, too. If you can believe it, pets now also get in on the fun with Batman and Lion being the two most popular costumes this year on eBay.

When I was a kid, no one bought Halloween costumes for their pets or children. You made do. For example, my Batman costume consisted of thermal underwear as Bat-Tights and a bath towel pinned around my neck.

In that same spirit, instead of sterile costumes from a box, here are some outside-the-box Halloween outfits I’d like to see come knocking on my door tonight:

Real superhero firemen, paramedics and nurses dressed up as cartoon superheroes with capes.

Teachers, and most especially special-needs educators, same as above.

Superman, Batman and Iron Man dressed up as Anthony Sadler, Alek Skarlatos and Spencer Stone, the three American tourists who helped thwart a terrorist gunman on a train bound for Paris earlier this summer.

Vin Scully wearing a headset as a guest in Fox TV’s broadcast booth for the 2015 World Series.

Angels manager Mike Scioscia dressed up again in a Dodgers uniform.

The 2015 New York Mets dressed up as the Amazin’ Mets of 1969.

The Cubs dressed as World Series Champions.

Malala Yousafzai dressed up as the future President of the United Nations.

Donald Trump dressed up as a mime and Dr. Ben Carson as an over-caffeinated high-energy TV pitchman.

Bernie Sanders as, of course, Larry David.

Every presidential candidate in both parties dressed up as someone taking a lie-detector test.

Martin Shkreli, CEO of Turing Pharmaceuticals who put a 5,000 percent markup on a lifesaving drug, dressed as greedy Mr. Potter from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Or as a thief in jail stripes.

Kobe Bryant dressed in his rookie Lakers uniform, complete with young, springy legs.

Tom Brady in a costume as a deflated football.

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell dressed up as a concussion patient.

1tricktreatA family out for dinner in a restaurant dressed as Amish Mennonites instead of everyone having his or her attention focused on a smartphone screen.

No one in costume as Caitlyn Jenner.

Mrs. Figs’ Bookworm owner Connie Halpern dressed as Oprah because she’s equally effervescent and a book reader’s best friend.

Roger Thompson, Venturan author of “My Best Friend’s Funeral,” dressed up as a New York Times best-selling writer.

Drew Daywalt, local author of two children’s books currently atop the NYT Best Sellers List with “The Day The Crayons Came Home” at No. 1 and “The Day The Crayons Quit” at No. 3, dressed up as, of course, a crayon.

The USDA Food Pyramid dressed up as a Fourth of July red-white-and-blue paper plate stacked with hotdogs, bacon and cold cuts.

KVTA radio early-morning host Tom Spence dressed as The Tonight Show’s late-night host Jimmy Fallon because Spence is funnier.

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

Lastly, my wife as Harley Quinn.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.Wooden&Me_cover_PR

Check out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

Pilgrimage to ‘Authors Ridge’

 Woody’s new book STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME: STRAW_CoverEssays on Life, Love, and Laughter is available for Pre-Order HERE NOW!

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Pilgrimage to Bridge and ‘Authors Ridge’

This is the second in a four-column series on my recent travels to the Eastern Seaboard to visit my son – and visit much more.

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1NoethBridge

The Old North Bridge, in Concord, Mass.

Sixty miles north of Plymouth Rock, I made a pilgrimage to another “ground zero” in American history: the Old North Bridge in Concord, Mass., where the Revolutionary War erupted on April 19, 1775.

The replica bridge, like Plymouth Rock, proved much smaller in person than anticipated. Also, similarly, it made my imagination whirl as I surveyed the landscape, my sight rising from the Concord River to the high ground where the Minute Men held the advantage.

Surprisingly, a different ridge proved to be a higher highlight for me.

On our rental-car drive to the Old North Bridge, my wife and I made a short detour to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Specifically, to the upper area near the back called “Authors Ridge.”

1AuthorsRidgeIt is a fitting name because on this picturesque-as-a-thousand-words tree-shaded ridge, all within an acorn’s toss of each other, are the graves of four significant 19th Century American authors: Nathaniel Hawthorne, Louisa May Alcott, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau. Call it Ridge Rushmore.

First up is the Thoreau family plot which has a shared monument stone the size of a chest of drawers bearing the names, birth dates and dates of death of parents John and Cynthia D., as well as their offspring John Jr., Helen L., Henry D. (Born July 12, 1817, Died May 6, 1862) and Sophia E.

Surrounding the monument are six small headstones, each barely bigger than a hardcover book, reading: Mother, Father, Sophia, John, Helen and …

… Henry.

How perfect this is, for as he famously advised during his life: “Simplify, simplify.” No dates. No full name. Simply “HENRY” in all caps.

Modest be it, Henry’s marker readily stands out for it is decorated like a Christmas tree, albeit instead of with ornaments and lights it is adorned with a classroom’s worth of pens and pencils of various colors leaning against it, some with messages and names – “Thank You” and “Bless You” and “Anna” and “Steven” on this day – written on them by worshipers who made the pilgrimage to pay homage.

This shows you how very small, and simple, HENRY's marker is.

This shows you how very small, and simple, Thoreau’s HENRY marker is.

Originally, I left behind a pen but quickly thought the better of it and instead balanced a yellow No. 2 pencil – after writing “Simplify” and “Woody” on it – for in addition to being a writer, poet, philosopher, naturalist and surveyor, Thoreau was a renowned pencil maker.

The headstone for the author of “The Scarlet Letter” is slightly larger than Henry’s marker, and rests upon a pedestal, yet it too is simple, reading only: Hawthorne. It also has a few pens left at its base, as well as coins and stones balanced upon its arched top.

A flat rectangular stone, whitened by the elements and flush to the ground, marks the grave of Louisa M. Alcott, author of “Little Women.” A Union nurse during the Civil War, Alcott’s grave also has a small American flag, the sort a child might wave curbside at a Fourth of July parade, with a “U.S. Veteran” medallion on its staff. Expectedly, the site is graced with a collection of pencils and pens.

Ralph Waldo Emerson’s gravestone, meanwhile, is a refrigerator-sized hunk of beautiful raw granite. Attached is a copper plaque, long ago having turned a handsome green patina, decorated with four flowers on top and below reading: Ralph Waldo Emerson / Born in Boston May 25 1803 / Died in Concord April 27 1882.

Lastly, the plaque quotes this line from his poem “The Problem” –

“The passive Master lent his hand / To the vast soul that o’er him planned.”

The problem of where to place pens and pencils to honor the word master Emerson has been solved by admirers who have wedged pennies and dimes between the plaque and granite, some of the coins at 90-degree angles to form mini-shelves. So it was I balanced the pen originally intended for Thoreau’s marker.

Leaving “Authors Ridge”, breathtaking in both its beauty and literary hallowedness, this line from Thoreau came fittingly to mind: “Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

Column: Readers Offer Support

 Woody’s new book STRAW_Cover

STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter

is available for Pre-Order HERE NOW!

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Avalanche of Email Proves Surprising

It is well-established in the newspaper business that readers are far more likely to write a letter in response to a story or column they disagree with than one with which they are like-minded.

Therefore I was prepared for an avalanche of cold disagreement to my hot-button pro-gun control column three weeks past headlined: Shooter Kills (Fill In The Number) Again.

As expected, a Costco-sized bulk package of emails flooded my inbox. Unexpectedly, the bulk did not take me to task. In fact, it was not even split pro-con down the middle. Remarkably my email was 100 percent favorable.

Moreover, people continue to come up to me at the bank, bagel store, beach and elsewhere to single out that piece with praise – unheard of for a column that ran nearly a month ago.

I believe this special space in The Star each Saturday morning belongs to the community and I am merely its steward. Therefore, I would like to share a sampling of comments I received from you.

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From Paula: “I have come to the conclusion that only when everyone who loves their guns becomes tragically affected by this epidemic, only then will they be willing to step up to the plate for change. So sad and scary for this great country of ours.”

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From James: “Clearly, times were different about our stance for our right to bear arms when we had no idea what the future would hold in weaponry. To be clear, I am a proponent of our right to bear arms, yet I’m also a major proponent of gun control. The common man has no need for semi-automatic or even automatic rifles, much less ones that can load a 15 round magazine, even in the case of hunting game.”

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From Sherrilynn: “No other country (developed or undeveloped) has the civilian gun violence the U.S. has. You neglected to mention a few of the great organizations – such as Everytown For Gun Safety, Americans For Responsible Solutions, and The Brady Campaign – that are trying to rid this scourge from our nation. (Guns on college campus really?)

“I am involved with two of these organizations and am constantly signing petitions/letters for legislation on gun control. How many of these organizations need to be started after a killing to make the U.S./state legislatures enact/enforce gun control laws?”

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From Joan: “I woke up this morning and after having some coffee, sat down to check out the on-line headlines. Of course, it’s another shooting. This time a police officer in Houston. And all that I could think was, ‘Can this just STOP?!’

“I have read that more police officers are killed by states that have the most gun ownership. I think all states have too much gun ownership and that ALL LIVES MATTER!

“I wish I had the perfect solution that would serve everyone, but I don’t think it exists. All I do know is that whatever we are doing now is not working. As you stated, it’s just constant.

“I want you to know that I admire you for taking a stand, in print. And that I couldn’t agree with you more.”

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From Gerry and Jean: “We, too, will vote for anyone seriously putting gun control as their number one priority.”

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From Peggy: “Once again you have written a very timely piece on the problem of people getting guns and then using that gun to kill or injure innocent people.

“It is so hard to understand why this wonderful nation cannot succeed in passing a significant law to stop the bloodshed! What is wrong with all those elected officials in Washington! Sometimes I believe they are just STUPID! Sorry to use that word, but what else would you call them?!”

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And from David: “Congratulations, Mr. Woodburn, for your courage to stand up for reasonable gun laws despite the inevitability of angering the gun-lovers and NRA supporters.

“As a nation, we embrace firearms, and then we lament the routine numerous deaths of innocents each day. We can’t have it both ways. Other countries are bewildered by our daily massacres.”

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

 

Column: Two Beach Stories

 Woody’s acclaimed memoir

WOODEN & ME is available HERE at Amazon

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A Day at the Beach, Two Experiences

A day at the beach isn’t always a proverbial day at the beach.

Tuesday morning past, a friend of mine was doing just about his favorite thing in the world – surfing. He parked his truck up top at Emma Wood State Beach and went to commune with waves, nature and god.

1beachHis glorious day took a 180-degree pivot when he returned to find his wallet and cell phone stolen.

Sometimes, however, a day that’s gone bad can turn out extraordinarily good.

This same Tuesday, Steve Cook and his wife, Carol, were similarly enjoying our coastal paradise. After buying new sandals at Ventura Surf Shop, they pedaled their bikes back to the beach. Before crossing over from the street to the Promenade, Steve looked back and saw a truck approaching and wisely waited.

Unfortunately, Steve also veered slightly and recounts: “I overcorrected and jammed my front wheel and went down hard.”

Fortunately, his left shoulder absorbed the initial impact rather than his right shoulder that has an artificial joint. He proceeded to bounce and tumble, his back, surgically repaired shoulder, and head also receiving introductions to the pavement.

The driver of the truck stopped and ran over to see if Steve, now sprawled on the road, was okay. Normally, this would be the ending highlight of the story.

But something even better, and more unexpected, happened next.

Two “boys” – actually young men in their very early 20s – who witnessed the crash also raced over to Steve’s aid. Together, the three Good Samaritans – Steven Fragiacamo, who was driving the truck; and friends Christopher Alvarez and Graham McAlpine – helped Steve to his feet and moved the bicycle out of the road.

“Graham and Christopher were all over me, making sure I was okay with no serious injuries,” Steve retells. “I was bleeding like a stuck pig on my shin and Steven gave me lint free cloth he had in his truck, to stem the bleeding. Graham was making sure that I had no serious head injury.”

Graham, a Ventura native and now a junior at UC-Santa Barbara, is a good person to have by your injured side as he is a veteran beach lifeguard.

In addition to being battered and bruised, Steve lost his prescription blended-lens sunglasses in the fall.

“We were all looking for them and Carol wondered if they had gone down the adjacent storm drain,” Steve explains.

The opening was too small to get a good look, so Steven had the idea to remove the manhole cover. And that’s what the young trio did. Bingo! The glasses were plopped in a puddle of muck down at the bottom.

In sight, but out of reach. So Graham jumped into action, literally. He hopped down into the hole, nimbly landing on the one dry spot, and retrieved the expensive sunglasses.

“The most impressive part of the story to me – besides the boys obvious concern for my welfare – was the rescue of my glasses from the storm drain,” Steve emphasizes. “Teamwork by all three guys and no trepidation about going down into the sewer.”

Actually, perhaps the most impressive thing is that if you know any of these young men – or their parents – you are not in the least bit surprised by how they responded.

“So these young men stopped to help an old man in a time of trouble with kindness and extra effort,” says Steve, who served in the Peace Corps in Jamaica four decades ago before embarking on a career as a PE teacher. Today he is a full-time artist whose wonderful paintings of the beach, ocean and nature grace walls across the U.S. as well as in Europe and Asia.

“We were both so impressed and blown away with all three boys,” Steve further praises.

But here is the most important thing Steve has to say about his happy mishap, the take-away we should all take to heart: “Don’t ever let anybody tell you that today’s young people are not the hope and future of us all. These three young men were the best and a credit to their parents.”

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

Shooter Kills (Fill In Number) Again

 Pre-Order Woody’s new book

STRAWBERRIES IN WINTERTIME HERE

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Shooter Kills (Fill In The Number) Again

In the 1920s, the “Golden Age of Sports,” tennis legend William “Big Bill” Tilden defeated his rival William “Little Bill” Johnston so frequently in major matches that newspapers were said to keep a headline set in hot-lead type:

Tilden Beats Johnston Again

In this computer age, it seems American newspapers could save time by programming a save-get key with a different, somber headline:

Shooter Kills (Fill In The Number) Again1gunviolence

Fill in the number is wrong. Fill in the names. Fill in the faces, the individuals, the loved ones, the friends, the co-workers, the fellow citizens. Fill in the “There but for the grace of God go I.”

Wednesday, once again a headline needed to be filled in: Shooter Kills 2, Wounds 1 on live TV in Virginia.

Television reporter Alison Parker, 24, and cameraman Adam Ward, 27, were gunned down in cold blood by a madman. Vicki Gardner, who was being interviewed, was critically wounded. Before taking his own life, the maniac posted video of his heinous act on Twitter and Facebook.

Words fail me. But I will still try. This is a column I could write once a month. No, weekly. Shooter Kills (Fill In The Number) Again.

Shooter Kills 5, Wounds 2 at military recruitment center in Chattanooga

Shooter Kills 9, Wounds 1 in a Church in Charleston

Shooter Kills 5, Wounds 1 at Marysville-Pilchunck High School

Shooter Kills 13, Wounds 8 at Washington Navy Yard

Shooter Kills 20 Children And 6 Adults at Sandy Hook Elementary School

Shooter Kills 12, Wounds 58 at Aurora Movie Theater

This is just a short list of mass shootings in America in the last three years. Mass shootings make headlines, but according to the CDC all shooting-related deaths – homicides, suicides and unintentional – combined total more than 30,000 annually in the U.S.

In other words, the number of civilians killed by guns on U.S. soil in one year alone surpasses the 2,996 casualties suffered in the 9/11 terrorist attacks tenfold. As Pogo cartoonist Walt Kelly wrote: “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

If that doesn’t numb you, those 30,000-plus annual gun-related deaths average out to about 82 lives lost each day, day after day ad nauseam.

No other country comes close to our killing fields, killing streets, killing movie theaters and killing schools.

I know this column will anger many of my readers, maybe even lose some of them. So be it. The NRA and its hard-line supporters have long been controlling the issue of gun control, derailing meaningful compromise and progress. Their thwarting all new measures has not helped thwart the shooting violence.

When our Founding Fathers wrote the Constitution, it took 30 seconds to reload a gun to get off a second shot. Today, in those 30 seconds a madman can squeeze off enough bullets – including bullets designed to pierce armor – to cause the headline: Shooter Kills 50.

Guns are designed to kill – animals of game, yes, but also people. Handguns are designed especially to kill people. And semi-automatic guns are designed to kill a lot of people, quickly.

Polls show the vast majority of Americans want gun-control legislation increased, but our lawmakers ignore us and kowtow to the powerful gun lobby. Since they refuse to listen to the public they serve, it is long past time to replace them with leaders who do hear us.

I don’t know about you, but henceforth my No. 1 issue when voting for any politician, from local supervisor to congressman to president, will be their stance on guns. All candidates aim to strengthening our economy and ensure national security; I want ones who don’t shoot down legislation aimed at lessening future shootings.

Democrat, Republican, Independent, if someone seriously and believably makes gun control his or her top priority at the risk of becoming an enemy of rich lobbyists, they have my vote.

We have a Constitutional right to bear arms, yes, but how many more “Shooter Kills (Fill In The Number of Lives Not To Be Fully Lived) Again” headlines must we bear to read?

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

Back-to-School Good Samaritan

 Woody’s acclaimed memoir

WOODEN & ME is available HERE at Amazon

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Back-to-School Good Samaritan

Too often a story becomes news because someone is in the wrong place at the wrong time.

David Pichon is the flip side of the coin.

“I just happened to be in the right place, at the right time,” David shares, adding an all-important third element, “in the right frame of mind.”1schoolsupplies

The right place was Walmart in Camarillo. The right time was mid-afternoon two Mondays past. The right frame of mind is something David, now 50, learned as a boy from his father: “If you can, you should.”

So when David, who stands 6-foot-4, was milling around waiting for a cashier’s check to be printed so he could pay his rent, saw 5-foot-2 Maya Geisler struggling to reach notebooks on the top shelf, he stepped in to help.

Realizing Maya had forgotten to get a shopping cart, David next went to retrieve one while she counted out notebooks for her incoming class of 24 second-graders at Somis Elementary School.

“I thought that was so nice,” Maya recalls.

The kindness was only beginning.

If you can, you should. On his way to see if his cashier’s check was ready, David asked a store clerk to let him know when Maya got in line for the register.

When she did, David appeared. Doing some second-grade math in his head, he quickly figured there weren’t enough supplies for a full classroom of students. He rushed back to the back-to-school aisle and loaded up a second shopping cart with more sets of crayons, pencils, and a full box of notebooks.

He then paid for the entire bounty.

“I just couldn’t believe how generous this stranger was,” Maya rejoins. “I started crying a bit.”

More tears flowed when David pushed the cart to her car and helped load the largess into the trunk.

“You’re never going to miss a few dollars spent helping someone else,” David says, understating his generosity. “Really, what I did wasn’t a big deal.”

Maya disagrees. A single mother with two boys, she admits money is “super tight.” To her, David’s deed was a very big deal.

Knowing only the first name of the Back-To-School Good Samaritan, Maya posted a brief summary of the random act of kindness on her Facebook page and mentioned the business van David drove off in: Sound Doctor 911. Sure enough, someone recognized her hero as the owner of the Camarillo store that installs automotive stereo systems.

Maya’s heartfelt 164-word message on Facebook struck a chord and quickly went viral. In just days it was shared 7,000 times.

“Teachers are contacting me full of love and genuine thanks,” David allows, noting he has received more than 2,000 emails. “I’ve heard from people in Australia, Thailand, Africa, and all across the U.S. The beautiful part is the way others are responding by paying it forward because they were inspired by me.”

David pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and adds sincerely: “The attention I’m getting is really undeserved. I didn’t pull someone from a burning building.”

No, but he did step forward to help a teacher during these times of burning school budgets.

Maya, now in her 11th year as an educator after previously working in banking and nursing, estimates she spends about $600 out of her own pocket each year on supplies for her students and classroom.

“We do it because we love our jobs and our students,” says Maya.

She is the norm, not the exception.

His act of kindness for Maya was not the exception for David, either. He is a loyal supporter of Casa Pacifica and the Boys & Girls Club, and also donates blood regularly.

To be sure, he has a remarkable heart – all the more so when you learn that this father of four, and grandfather of one, has survived two heart attacks in the past 22 months.

“I think I’m still here so I can do more,” David allows. “None of us can fix the world, but we can all help fix our own neighborhood. Like I said, my father taught me, ‘If you can, you should.’ ”

He could, he did.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

 

Tree-mendous emails

Aussie emails are Tree-mendous

Trees have inspired much superb writing, such as Joyce Kilmer’s beautiful poem “Trees” that begins, “I think that I shall never see / A poem lovely as a tree” and ends, “Poems are made by fools like me, / But only God can make a tree.”

Also in stanza, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned: “I hear the wind among the trees / Playing the celestial symphonies;

“I see the branches downward bent, / Like keys of some great instrument.”1Tree

John Muir, among volumes on the subject, wrote: “It has been said that trees are imperfect men, and seem to bemoan their imprisonment rooted in the ground. But they never seem so to me. I never saw a discontented tree.”

While writing about trees is a familiar age-old practice, what about writing to a tree?

This is actually happening in Melbourne, Australia, where the city has assigned ID numbers and email addresses to its trees so that citizens can easily report problems such as dangerous dangling branches.

A tree-mendous thing followed: people began writing love-letter emails –and you just know trees, unlike people, greatly prefer emails over handwritten notes on, egads!, paper – by the thousands, to their favorite trees.

“My dearest Ulmus,” began one love note to a green-leaf elm. “As I was leaving St. Mary’s College today I was struck, not by a branch, but by your radiant beauty. You must get these messages all the time. You’re such an attractive tree.”

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Here is another. “To: Algerian Oak, Tree ID 1032705

Dear Algerian Oak,

“Thank you for giving us oxygen. Thank you for being so pretty. I don’t know where I’d be without you to extract my carbon dioxide. Stay strong; stand tall amongst the crowd. You are the gift that keeps on giving. Hopefully one day our environment will be our priority.”

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From a student. “To: Green Leaf Elm, Tree ID 1022165  

Dear Green Leaf Elm,

“I hope you like living at St. Mary’s. Most of the time I like it too. I have exams coming up and I should be busy studying. You do not have exams because you are a tree. I don’t think that there is much more to talk about as we don’t have a lot in common, you being a tree and such. But I’m glad we’re in this together.

“Cheers, F.”

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I especially like this sweet note from an admirer of a golden elm.

“Dear 1037148,

“You deserve to be known by more than a number. I love you. Always and forever.”

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Like Tree-No.1037148-Hugger, I have loved always and forever many trees in my life. If they had their own email addresses, here are some notes I would like to send them.

Dear Evergreen Beside My Boyhood Home Driveway,

Do you remember when I was small how I used to pretend you were a basketball defender and I would hoist shots over you with all my little-boy might? I imagine you are so tall now there is not a shooter alive whose shot you cannot block!

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Dear My Favorite Majestic Tree in Ojai’s Libbey Park,

Thank you for the cool shade you have provided me over the decades during the Ojai Tennis Tournament.

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Dear Mariposa Grove Sequoia Sempervirens,

I had never before seen trees like you / Tall as skyscrapers from a sidewalk’s view

Oxygen you give and my breath you take / Awesomeness like thee only God could make

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Dear “Two Trees”,

Thank you, thank you for your aesthetic beauty and for holding vigilant twin sentinel over Ventura.

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Dear Mighty Oak In My Grade School Friend Jim’s Backyard,

Thank you for so perfectly holding up the best tree house I have ever been in.

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Dear Birch In My Front Yard,

You stand a little bent and crooked, like an elderly woman in need of a cane, and yet you are still lovely and strong and I love the way your leaves filter the evening sunlight before it comes through the window. I look forward to hearing the wind play celestial symphonies on your downward branches for decades to come.

With love,

Woody

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Champagne for the Heart

 My new memoir WOODEN & ME is available here at Amazon

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Compliments Are Champagne for the Spirit

A short while ago, I wrote about a party for Laszlo Tabori in honor of history’s third four-minute mile he ran 60 years ago. The theme of that occasion, and my column, was exemplified by this old Irish proverb:

’Tis better to buy a small bouquet / And give to your friend this very day,

Than a bushel of roses white and red / To lay on his coffin after he’s dead.

1twaincomplimentWhile the anniversary party was a grand bouquet, I have personally witnessed how a single flower in the form of a few kind words can make a person feel as though champagne is flowing through his veins. Considering compliments cost nothing, it seems a shame we are oftentimes stingy dispensing them.

As my son puts it: “Giving compliments does a lot more good than taking out the trash, and should thus be done more than once a week.”

At the risk of appearing self-serving, I hope sharing a few compliments I have received recently will serve to inspire others to give their own friends, family, and even strangers, a verbal splash of champagne to lift some spirits before they next take out the trash.

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Let me begin with the generous people who complimented me by responding to a request in this space a few weeks ago to sponsor sign-up fees, and buy new gift tennis rackets, for the USTA youth lessons program that began this week at Buena High School.

Led by a generous donation from Carolyn Hertel – who noted with her contribution, “Tennis is not only a sport for life, the people you meet are often friends forever” – readers served up more than $1,200 to give disadvantaged kids a better summer.

As program director Paul Olmsted told me: “Wow! With all the trouble in the world it is uplifting to know that there really are some generous people out there.”

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Among of the nicest compliments I have received as a writer was when a man came up to me at a restaurant, pardoned himself for the interruption, and proceeded to show me one of my columns he keeps in his wallet. I have figuratively folded up the memory for my own safekeeping when I need a lift.

In a span of just a few days another reader came up to me at a “Wooden & Me” book signing and shared that she routinely displays my columns on her refrigerator; a teacher told me she occasionally reads and discusses my columns with her high school class; and a woman at a service group I was a guest speaker at showed me a thick folder of my columns she has clipped out, explaining through tears how my words have affected her life over the years.

As Paul Olmsted put it, “Wow!” Each encounter took only a brief moment from the giver, but I can assure you the good feelings in the receiver have been lasting.

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Sometimes a first-rate compliment can be passed forward secondhand.

Larry Baratte, head swimming coach at Ventura College and a Ventura County Sports Hall of Fame inductee, attended the Southern California Sports Broadcasters Awards Luncheon as a guest two weeks past.

The event featured a Father’s Day theme and one of the speakers was John Wooden’s daughter, Nan. Larry had the opportunity to meet Nan and happened to mention me to her. This in itself was a kind thing to do, but even kinder was his reaching out to me afterwards with Nan’s immediate response: “Daddy loved Woody.”

Hearing those three words left me sitting speechless for five minutes, lost in memories with tears in my eyes but also champagne in my heart. Larry’s forwarded compliment not only made my day a masterpiece, to borrow one of my favorite Wooden-isms, it made my entire month a masterpiece.

Remarkably, despite my two-decade friendship with Coach and many visits in his home, I have never met Nan. This is something I must soon remedy. I need to find the right words, a small bouquet of a compliment, to put some bubbles of joy in her veins.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”

Dads Forge Memories

 My new memoir WOODEN & ME is available here at Amazon

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One Role of Dads is to Forge Memories

Dads have countless roles and surely one of the most important is to forge lasting childhood memories for their kids. In honor of Father’s Day, here is one of mine.

1dadsdayThe summer of 1969, a month before Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin would walk on the moon and two months before Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin rocked at Woodstock, my dad planned to take my two older brothers on an epic fishing adventure in Canada. Having just turned 9, I was deemed too young to tag along.

I felt more left out than Apollo 11’s third astronaut, Michael Collins, orbiting the moon in the Command Module.

T-minus two nights before our family Plymouth station wagon with faux wood side panels was to blast off, Pop’s friend, Mel Olex, who was to fill out the travel party, fell ill. It was not the first time Dr. Olex had come to my rescue: after separate accidents he put plaster casts on my broken leg and fractured wrist.

Now, he healed my broken heart because in his absence there was room for me. After all, food for four had already been packed. For me it was Christmas in June.

For Pop, now the only driver, it was a long haul from Columbus, Ohio, north across the border to Canada’s Lake Heron. We then hopped a motorboat to an isolated island where we stayed in a one-room rustic cabin at the Westwind Lodge. The name was fortuitous for it brought to mind a poem my Grandpa Ansel used to recite when he took us three boys fishing at farm ponds:

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.

Fishing at the Westwind Lodge thus promised to be the very best.

In the chill of dawn we would head out on the lake in a small boat with a temperamental outboard motor that leaked an ironically beautiful rainbow of ugly gasoline on the water’s surface.

By late afternoon we would have a collection of pike, walleye, perch and bass which the lodge cook filleted, breaded, fried and served us for dinner.

The first three days we returned to the Lodge for lunch before heading out for a second round of angling. This limited how far we could venture, so when Pop learned about a distant “Secret Cove” – doesn’t every lake have a “Secret Cove” that isn’t really a secret? – where northern pike the size of VW Beetles were reported to lurk, he got the cook to pack us lunches.

Next morning, Pop gave us our assignments: Jim was to make sure the rods and reels were all in the boat; Doug was in charge of the lunches and the cooler with the sodas; and I was told to put on my life jacket and try not to fall in the lake. Again.

We were starving by the time we finally found “Secret Cove” and decided to go ashore for lunch before catching some VWs with gills. We three boys bolted from the boat and soon learned an important lesson: when standing on an uprising smooth rock landscape, don’t pee facing uphill.

Pop (still in the boat): Hey, Dougie, where’d you put the lunches?

Doug (sneakers getting wet on land): I think they’re by the life jackets.

Pop: Nope. I don’t see them or the ice cooler anywhere. Dougie, you didn’t leave the lunches on the dock did you?

Doug: Stone silence.

Pop: (We boys would have gotten our mouths washed out with soap if we repeated what Pop said next.)

While I cannot state this as fact, I am convinced the true native name of that “Secret Cove” was “There Ain’t No Fish Here Cove.”

I am convinced of this, too: hippies at Woodstock didn’t have a more wonderfully memorable summer of ’69 than my big brothers and I did at Westwind.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com.

Wooden-&-Me-cover-mock-upCheck out my new memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece”