Tag Archives: love

Mourning On A Gloomy Morning

by Woody

My favorite Wooden-ism, as I call John Wooden’s maxims, is “Make each day your masterpiece.”

This past Tuesday never had a chance to be a masterpiece. It was a canvas painted with ugly graffiti; a day where the Southern California sunshine seemed gloomy; a masterpiece ruined because Nan Wooden, the late legendary coach’s daughter, passed away in the morning at age 87 of natural causes.

The news squeezed my heart so hard it felt bruised and brought me to tears. Losing a friend is never easy, even one you have never met. Indeed, all the times I visited Coach in his home during our two-decade friendship, Nan never happened to be present.

That is not entirely accurate. Her presence was always felt through photos on display and our conversations.

Coach John Wooden and daughter Nan at at UCLA basketball game.

When my daughter Dallas was born – coincidentally, and sentimentally for Coach, her due date was his and Nell’s wedding anniversary – he shared how over-the-moon he had been when Nan was born and that I was likewise sure to be wrapped around my own little girl’s finger.

Two years later when my son arrived, Coach pointed out that we had both been blessed with “one of each” and in the same order. After that, I always paired Nan with Dallas, his Jim with my Greg, and I think Coach did likewise.

When Coach passed away a decade ago, I sent Nan a condolence card care of her father’s address. In the months, and even years, to follow I wish I had made a greater effort to reach out through others to set up a visit.

Among many things I would have loved to ask her was something I should have asked her “Daddy” as she called him even in her old age: Did he ever put notes with Wooden-ism – Daddy-isms to her! – in her school lunches?

I would have shared with Nan how I had made a daily habit of writing notes such as “Have a great day!” or “Good luck on your spelling test!” or “I miss you lots!” on paper napkins and putting them inside Dallas’s Little Mermaid lunchbox and Greg’s Power Rangers lunchbox.

Then, after I took them to meet her Daddy one unforgettable afternoon when they were 10 and nearly 8, I started adding his pearls of wisdom such as “Be quick, but don’t hurry” (a great reminder before a spelling test) and “Happiness begins where selfishness ends” and “Little things make big things happen” and dozens more.

Coach’s Seven-Point Creed, one line at a time, became a frequent go-to napkin jotting: “Be true to yourself. Make each day your masterpiece. Help others. Drink deeply from good books. Make friendship a fine art. Build shelter against a rainy day. Pray for guidance and give thanks for your blessings every day.”

We would discuss Wooden-isms at the dinner table and also talked about Coach’s “Pyramid of Success” and his personal definition of success: “Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.”

Today, Dallas is already teaching Wooden-isms to her nearly 3-year-old daughter Maya and Greg frequently texts Wooden’s gems to me! I think Nan would have enjoyed hearing all this.

About losing Nell, Coach wrote to me once: “I no longer have any fear of death as that is my only chance, if He will forgive me of my sins, to be with her again.”

Maybe last Tuesday was a masterpiece day after all, in Heaven, with Coach, Nell and Nan smiling at their reunion.

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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 SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Poor Proposal, Rich Marriage

by Woody

Among Carol King’s full catalogue of memorable songs, one lyric is most dear to me. It is from her iconic “Tapestry” album and goes, “Where you lead, I will follow.”

That, without the piano accompaniment, was what my college sweetheart told me matter-of-factly a month before I was to graduate from UC Santa Barbara. Wherever I eventually found a newspaper job, she promised to follow.

“Well, then, we might as well get married,” I replied without a moment’s hesitation, without a ring, without getting down on bended knee. It was perhaps the least planned and least romantic proposal in history.

Our very first date…

“Quit joking,” she replied and laughed.

She had good reason to think I was kidding. After all, we had dated for less than a year and a half, and that included a three-month breakup in the middle of our romance – of course, doesn’t every worthwhile rom-com have a breakup? – plus a full summer spent apart. Moreover, we were so very young. She was only 23 while I was still a couple weeks away from turning 22.

No matter. After she stopped laughing, I tried once more: “I’m serious. Will you marry me?”

This time she said “yes” and today – Sept. 4 – we celebrate our 39th wedding anniversary.

I cannot speak for my much-better-half, but when asked for my secret to a blissful marriage here is my answer: Find a former homecoming princess whose inner beauty impossibly outshines her outward comeliness; who is supremely kind and confident and charming, intelligent and generous and strong; with a sense of humor and an ocean of grace and, importantly, has a soft spot in her heart for a knuckleheaded guy.

Thirty-nine years – and two children raised to adulthood, and one grandchild thus far – is a long time, yet it also seems to have passed in about 39 days. The French writer Andre Maurois noted, “A happy marriage is a long conversation that always seems too short.” That’s how Lisa makes me feel.

… and as a beautiful bride.

Too, she brings to my mind the poetry of Tennyson and these lines: “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you . . . I could walk through my garden forever.” If only I had recited those syrupy lines when I proposed it might have compensated for not having already bought an engagement ring.

In “As You Like It” Shakespeare wrote, “Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” So it was with me.

Our meet-cute happened under a sprig of mistletoe at a college Christmas party thrown by mutual friends. She was wearing a light-blue turtleneck sweater, jean bell bottoms and running shoes, while I was soon wearing a smile that reached from Isla Vista to the Channel Islands.

Our first date was the very next day, a hole-in-the-wall dinner out, and I showed up at her door with a single yellow rose. At the time, I had no clue that yellow roses convey “friendship” while red ones signify “love.” In hindsight, yellow was perfect because it exemplifies a passage from A.A. Milne’s “Winnie-the-Pooh” that still describes my love for Lisa:

“ ‘We’ll be Friends Forever, won’t we, Pooh?’ asked Piglet.

“ ‘Even longer,’ Pooh answered.”

Half of forever later, as I reminisce about watching “Leese” walk down the wedding aisle, the words of the great John Steinbeck invade my heart. In his essay “The Golden Handcuff” about his long and deep love for San Francisco, he wrote: “My God! How beautiful it was and I knew then how beautiful.”

My God! How beautiful she was and I knew it then. I know it 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 SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Two Stories As Sweet As Cider

by Woody

“One of these days in your travels,” Damon Runyon wrote, “a guy is going to come up to you and show you a nice brand-new deck of cards on which the seal is not yet broken, and this guy is going to offer to bet you that he can make the Jack of Spades jump out of the deck and squirt cider in your ear.

“But, son, do not bet this man, for as sure as you are standing there, you are going to end up with an earful of cider.”

As a break from the earful of sour news we all get squirted with daily, here are two stories to give you a smile – one sent to me by a friend, the other by my nephew, authors unknown.

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“I was shopping in a big store and heard a loud crash. Multiple items had broken. Without even seeing what had happened, that much was obvious.

“I went to investigate. It was a shopping cart accident. An older shopper had misjudged a corner and steered her cart into a tall display, which came crashing down. It was quite a mess. Many items were shattered.

“The older shopper who had caused all this was on her knees. She was extremely embarrassed. Frantically, she was trying to clean things up. It was all her fault. She would make it right. People were gathered around her, doing nothing but gawking.

“Since I heard the crash, I felt I had to do something. I knelt down beside this poor woman and told her not to worry. I helped her pick up the broken pieces.

“After about a minute, the store manager appeared. He got on his knees next to us and said, ‘Leave it all there. We will clean it up.’

“The woman who was responsible said, ‘I want to pay you for all the damage.’

“The store manager said, ‘No, we have insurance for this. You don’t have to pay a thing. These things happen. It’s really nothing. Please don’t let this ruin your day.”

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“I’m not a garbage man, but my dad was before I was born.

“He’d found old fishing lures, a Bulova watch, but more importantly…

“My dad was the driver who had this one girl’s garbage route, and every time the girl would hear the truck she’d get all the last-minute garbage from the house and take it out so she could get a good look at all the garbage men.

“And she was interested in my dad. She even scheduled her radiography classes around trash collection day, just so she’d be home. When my dad noticed the trend, he’d often switch roles with one of the guys on the back of the truck so he could take the girl’s last-minute garbage from her and toss it in.

“This went on for months. One day, the girl’s father locked her out of the house and said he wouldn’t let her back in until she gave her phone number to one of the garbage men.

“Coincidentally, this was one day my dad was driving. She took the trash up to the guy on the back and asked him, ‘Hey, is your driver seeing anyone?’

“The guy yelled to my dad, ‘Hey, Keith, are you seeing anyone?!?!’

“And that is how my dad found his most valuable treasure, my mom, in the garbage. They’ve been happily married for almost 26 years.”

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I like to think – no, in fact, I know – these sweet-as-cider love stories and Golden Rule kindnesses happen all around us, and to us, each day.

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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 SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

 

 

Long List of Short Love Stories

by Woody

After two tearjerker columns in a row some laughter seems called for today.

“Even the gods love jokes,” Plato said and hopefully that includes puns for here are some – good and bad, but all fun – contributed by my friends who responded to the prompt: “She fell in love with an electrician and she got shocked. … Keep it going.”

“She fell in love with a nurse and that was a shot in arm.” – Mary Leu Pappas

“She fell in love with a fisherman and got hooked!” – Ed Wehan

“She fell in love with a fisherman, and he caught and released her.” – Susie Merry

“She fell in love with a firefighter and things got hot.” – Kathleen Koening

“She fell in love with a papermaker and was recycled.” – Pamela Joy Dransfeldt

“She married a tailor and life was sew-sew.” – Gary Bednorz

“She married the cable installer and the reception was amazing!” – Steve Grimm

“She fell in love with a prince and he turned into a frog.” – Rebecca Ann Caron

“She fell in love with an elevator operator and life was full of ups and downs.” – Mitch Gold

“She fell in love with a moonshiner, but I loved her still.” – David Heath

“She fell in love with 800 meter runner. He had a run track mind!” – Rick Torres

“She fell in love with a runner, but couldn’t catch her.” – Trudy Tuttle Arriaga

“She fell in love with a runner and he ran away (daily).” – Conni Miller

Scott Harris took the task to heart by submitting three and saved his best for last (wink-wink): “She fell in love with a gardener and life was a bed of roses. / She fell in love with a banker and was in the money. / She fell in love with Woody and lived a masterpiece life.”

“She fell in love with a cowboy and rode off into the sunset.” – Polly-Jo Gehr

“She fell in love with a gambler and lost.” – Sam Ce

“She fell in love with a recreation supervisor and has had fun ever since.” – Lanny Binney

“She fell in love with a poet and gave birth to a sonnet.” – Angela Dixon

“She fell in love with a teacher and learned her lesson!” – Jennifer Tipton

“She fell in love with a bartender, and she was shaken not stirred.” – Elektra Cohen

“She fell in love with a bartender and all too soon she’d had her fill.” – Dennis Jones

“She fell in love with a basketball player and had a ball.” Jeff Argend

“She fell in love with a pilot and her happiness soared to unimaginable heights!” – Chuck Blais

“She fell in love with a butcher and life was a grind.” – Gary Bednorz

“She fell in love with a sailor and it’s been smooth sailing since.” – Gail Tebbets

“She fell in love with a sailor and tied the knot.” – Susan Adamich

“She fell in love with a cobbler, but later discovered he was a heel, and soleless, and gave him the boot!” – Michael Weinberg-Lynn

“She fell in love with a vintner and got wined!” – Diana Boydstun

“She fell in love with a garbage man, but he dumped her.” – Todd Kane

“He fell in love with his yoga teacher. His friends told him to break it off but he said, ‘Namastay.’ ” – Toni Tuttle-Santana

“She fell in love with a guitarist and then felt picked on.” – Patrick Burke

And, from yours truly: “She fell in love with a writer and is enjoying the next chapter of her life.”

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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 SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

 

Two Readers Put Tears In The Writer

by Woody

“No tears in the writer,” Robert Frost famously noted, “no tears in the reader.” The reverse is true as well, as two readers recently proved by making my eyes well up to overflowing.

The first email came from Susanne Hopkins, from Maine, in greatly belated response to a column I wrote back in October of 2018 about Audrey and David Mills and their enchanting lecture about lobsters at the tiny Mount Desert Oceanarium Lobster Hatchery in Bar Harbor.

More than crustaceans, however, my column was really about an octogenarian couple that had been married 62 years yet still came into focus like honeymooners. “The lobster couple,” I wrote in conclusion, “is actually a pair of lovebirds.”

“Lobster Couple” Audrey and David Mills were married 64 years.

Two and a half years later their love affair that had now celebrated 64 wedding anniversaries touched me again when Susanne wrote a few weeks ago: “Dear Woody, I am the granddaughter of David and Audrey Mills – my grandfather went to be with his Heavenly Father last Tuesday. My daughter and I stumbled across your column during a Google search and I read your words to my grieving grandmother this morning and it brought happy smiles to our faces.

“I’m so grateful that you visited the Oceanarium and that you could see the beauty in not just their museum, but also in my very special grandparents. As their granddaughter, I am so proud of the lives they touched in the 46 years they ran their aquarium. Your column was a beautiful testament to who my grandfather was. He always let us know how much he loved us, and I think in this world that can be quite unusual.”

Tissue, please. I felt like I had tossed a bottle with a message corked inside into the ocean and after more than two years it came bobbing back in the waves and washed up onto the beach with the loveliest reply imaginable.

Shortly later, a second bottle washed ashore and I needed another tissue. This time the message came from much nearer, from Ventura, from Joyce Rieske. She also emailed belated in reply to a column, this one from more than a year ago, headlined “The Beauty of Sunsets.” In short, I marveled over our local coastal sundowns that often seem to have been painted by Monet using a palette of flames; mixed oils of reds, golds and oranges.

Wrote Joyce: “Dear Woody, My husband Cornelius – Connie – and I have always looked forward with anticipation to our Saturday Star. As long as his vision was good enough, Connie read your column himself each week. However, when his eyesight began failing, I read the Star and especially Woody to him.

“Last year, on February 9, 2020, I reread him your lovely column of February 8 about our wonderful Ventura County sunsets as Connie was experiencing his final sunset. That final sunset was a ‘pyrotechnic display’ as you wrote about and I was actually reading your words at his passing. You gave us the perfect ending to a perfect life of 62 years of marriage. Thank you for being a part of our life together.”

The misty-eyed thanks truly is mine to Joyce. Learning that one of my columns provided new widow Audrey Mills a moment’s reprieve from her ocean-deep grief was one of the most touching compliments I have ever received, but to imagine my written words being the final thing Connie Rieske heard, and in his beloved wife’s sweet voice, I will never receive a higher honor.

Nor will I ever take a Monet-like sunset even the least bit for granted.

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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 SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

Forecast: 92-Percent Chance Of Love

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Forecast: 92-Percent

Chance Of Love

If the weather app on you phone says there’s 92-percent chance of rain, you’d best take your umbrella or wear a raincoat.

If Netflix ranks a movie title a 92-pecent match with your viewing history, it’s a coin toss if you’ll actually like it.

And if an online dating site claims you are a 92-percent match with another person, I would suggest you go meet someone the old-fashioned way at a party, park, bookstore or grocery store aisle.

To begin with, if “opposites attract” shouldn’t you want more like a 12-percent match? Perhaps dating algorithms take this into account, but I’m still a naysayer.

Without ever having used one, my complaint with dating apps is not that they aren’t good matchmakers but rather that they are raining on one of my favorite things to do when I’m introduced to a couple. Be they engaged or newlyweds or married for decades, I like to ask: “How did you meet?”

Almost without fail, their faces light up and I’m treated to a story they love to tell. Quite often it’s more entertaining than a rom-com. Alas, how does a meet-cute happen in cyberspace?

Let me tell you how. Actually, I shall let my daughter Dallas tell you. First, as a teaser trailer, imagine “You’ve Got Mail” with Meg Ryan’s book-loving “Shopgirl” character played by an equally adorable girl who loves books and sunflowers. Meanwhile, cantankerous Joe Fox with the email username “NY152” is played by a good-looking young man as likeable as the real-life Tom Hanks.

Spoiler alert: The sunflower-loving girl, a Dodgers fan by the way, and the young man who has loved the Oakland A’s since boyhood have now been married four years and have a precious 2-year-old daughter.

And so, with February being the month of “Love and Romance” and Cupid and Valentine’s Day, I now turn the column over to Dallas:

Lovebirds Allyn and Dallas — Hollywood name, Dallyn!

“One night in late January 2014, ‘Sunflowergirl87’ was browsing OkCupid when she came across a photo of a handsome guy with a bird on his shoulder, ‘OaktownA’sFan,’ who the dating-site algorithm declared was a 92% match. She decided to reach out with a message.

“ ‘Hi! I was really drawn to your profile – you seem like such a genuine, adventurous, glass-half-full person, and I just wanted to reach out and say hello . . .’

“OaktownA’sFan read this sincere, heart-on-her-sleeve message and immediately knew this girl had not been online dating for long, because she sounded way too optimistic and friendly. ‘I better swoop her up fast,’ he thought.

“ ‘Hi there! Thank you for such a sweet and thoughtful message. I would love to meet up for coffee or tea sometime!’

“They messaged back and forth a little bit – about Dallas’s writing, Allyn’s sustainable business MBA, dogs, random acts of kindness – before OaktownA’sFan (‘my name is Allyn, pronounced Alan’) asked sunflowergirl87 (‘my name is Dallas, like the city’) out for ice cream at Lottie’s Ice Cream Parlor in Walnut Creek.

“Their first date, on February 1, was a rainy evening – not the best weather for ice cream, but neither of them minded. Allyn ordered the adventurous flavor with cayenne pepper in it. Dallas ordered something chocolate. Allyn was so attentive asking Dallas questions that she talked and talked and talked and her ice cream all melted. They walked down the street to Starbucks to talk longer because neither felt ready to say goodbye yet.

“The next day, Allyn asked Dallas out on a second date.

“Soon after that, they both disabled their OkCupid accounts.”

I love a cute love story, don’t you?

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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 SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

 

Sweet Treat Follows Halloween

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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A Sweet Treat

Follows Halloween

Out of precaution, but with small expectation, we bought a single bag of candy bars in case any trick-or-treaters came by Halloween evening. In years past we have handed out 20 bags.

Coronavirus kept our doorbell silent as a tombstone.

It’s easy to jokingly snicker, “Great! I’ll just have to eat all these Snickers myself.” But the truth is I felt empty because autumn’s annual parade of kids singing “Trick or treat!” as their goodie sacks and plastic pumpkin buckets fill up, fills my heart.

Imagine the cutest costumed child of the night knocking on your door after the porch light has been turned off and you get an idea of what happened to me. In this case, it was a day later and two young girls were dressed up as themselves – as the cutest two siblings imaginable.

I am guessing their ages to be 3 and 5 and they were at a local park with their parents enjoying a late-afternoon picnic. Meanwhile, I was on my daily run and seeing them each half-mile loop around put a smile on my face and extra spring in my stride.

I wish you could have seen them. The girls played catch with their dad and tag with their mom; played by themselves while their parents snuggled on the spread-out blanket; joined mom and dad for a snack, and a hug, before racing off to pet a dog on a leash; and on and on their fun went.

Just as Halloween is a time machine that pulls us back to our own childhoods, these two children sent my mind racing in reverse 25 years to when my daughter and son were about their ages.

Instead of on a blanket in a park, our young family of four was having dinner at a charming Italian restaurant. After the spaghetti and meatballs disappeared, and scoops of ice cream too, our waiter vanished. The kids grew antsy as we waited for the check. Ten minutes became thirty and my wife and I became impatient as well.

“Where’s the check?” I grumbled softly.

“Where’s our waiter?” my wife mumbled.

“Where’s the bathrooms?” the kids needed to know.

Our waiter remained AWOL. Eventually, finally, at long last I caught the attention of a different server and asked if he could please get our check.

Instead of the check, our original waiter brought us a heartwarming explanation: Two elderly gentlemen at a table across the room had paid for our dinner, but requested the waiter not let us know until after they left – hence the long delay.

The Samaritan pair had seen a happy young family, our waiter explained, and simply wanted to anonymously do a random act of kindness. Ever since, I have occasionally tried to repay those kind men when I have seen happy young families in restaurants.

And so it was that I wished I could have paid the dinner check for the two girls and their parents at the park. Instead, all I could think to do was stop by before I left and tell them something they already well knew – what a lovely family they are!

This led to a brief social-distanced visit where I learned the sisters are inseparable, even sharing a bed by choice, and that a third sibling is on the way.

As I jogged away into the early arriving darkness, the two girls sang out in sweet harmony: “Have a nice day!”

“Thank you!” I shouted back. “You, too!”

What I thought was this: “Thanks to you, I already have.”

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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” …

Balloons Filled with Wisdom, Love

by Woody

FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

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Balloons Filled with

Wisdom and Love

Selfishness may not be on the rise, but it sometimes seems that is the case. It therefore seems timely to share an unattributed story my friend Larry Baratte sent me shortly before his death, which I have rewritten for brevity.

An elementary school teacher asked the children in all grades to each blow up a balloon and then write his or her name on it. The inflated balloons were tossed into the hallway and mixed around thoroughly.

The teacher then set a timer for five minutes and instructed the students to find the balloon with their own name on it. On the word “Go!” the children ran around helter-skelter looking for their own balloon.

When time ran out, not a single child had succeeded.

Now the teacher told them, wherever they were standing, to grab the balloon nearest them and personally give it to the person whose name was on it. In less than two minutes, everyone had their own balloon.

“Balloons are like happiness,” the teacher explained, “no one will find it very quickly by looking for theirs only.”

That wisdom bookends nicely with another email I received recently. It quoted a group of children, ages 4 to 8, who were asked: “What does love mean?” Their answers are as uplifting as helium balloons.

“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.” – Billy, age 4.

“Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries.” – Chrissy, age 6.

“When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis, too. That’s love.” – Rebecca, age 8.

“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.” – Terri, age 4.

“Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.” – Karl, age 5.

“Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt and then he wears it every day.” – Noelle, age 7.

“Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.” – Elaine, age 5.

“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and just listen.” – Bobby, age 7.

“If you want to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.” – Nikka, age 6.

“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.” – Tommy, age 6.

“During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.” – Cindy, age 8.

“Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.” – Mary Ann, age 4.

“My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.” – Clare, age 6.

“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.” – Karen, age 7.

“Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him to make sure the taste is okay.” – Danny, age 8.

“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.” – Jessica, age 8.

In other words, like happiness, love is like a balloon – you won’t find it by looking only for your own.

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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” …

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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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” …