Lindell's Gospel

Get yo' Kicks on Route-66, but get yo' vibe on I-35...

The unity of the nation, it has been often said, is sustained by 'free communication of thought" and easy transportation of people and goods. The ceaseless flow of information throughout the Republic is matched by individual and commercial movement over a vast system of interconnected highways. Together, the uniting forces of our communication and transportation system are dynamic elements in producing what we know as the 'United States!   

After decades of  crossing the country at a 'comfortable cruising altitude' of 33,000 feet, I've been on a series of driving adventures. The Interstate highways provide a more determinant  lens to see this amazing country. I am started by  what--and whom--  I've seen. When you're a kid from the inner city and you see a sign for 'wild hogs,' it's startling. There is no end to the adventures one can have along I-35. 

Dispatch from somewhere out on U.S. 287

Out on the fringes of West Texas, where the sun never sets there is a story of love and loss that is breathless. In one afternoon, when the late summer sun slammed mercilessly against the unyielding soil, a 15 year old girl decided her forbidden love was too much to bear. At the hour of choice, which arrived as a graceless edifice framed against the late summer afternoon, she posted a letter. In the letter, there was the chill of despair and the renunciation of all she knew. She walked the dusty road; the buildings and trees becoming dull, shapeless blotches as the colorless entry to death's doorway beckoned with a sly smile. The Indians call the place, Medicine Mounds. They say the wave of the spirit runs strong there. It is tangible. Yes, it is.

Note to Denver Nuggets (Martin, Smith and Andersen): There is no connection between manhood and flagrant fouls.

You smell death before you see it; so say the  enlightened.

Basketball has been a dominant part of my life since I was a 5th grader--which was, I think, during the Nixon administration. I love basketball but the NBA is in trouble.   The Denver Nuggets, and their style of play, are polluting the essence and beauty of basketball. The Nuggets are demonstrating an alternative method of playing basketball that isn't basketball.  What they present as  'tough' defense isn't defense: It is the systematic, calculated abrogation of the rules, descending to thuggery. What's it is the conceptual framework, you ask? It's easy:  Officials can't call every foul, so I'm going to foul 100% of the time, knowing that I'll inflict a lot of pain before I'm disqualified."  This approach, as presented by the Nuggets, violates the spurt of the game. Basketball is a physical, contact sport.  There is no place for cheap fouls, shoving players in the back during dribble drives ignoring good defensive principles and saying, I"m  going to f-you up because 'that's how we roll.'   I coached and taught for 18 years. My standard mantra to young players was:  "Watch the NBA for entertainment, not to learn  to play. What the Denver Nuggets do-- and,  is  reinforced by some analysts (not Van Gundy, who, I think, is remarkable in his insight and his iconoclast stance) in equating  'man-hood' to 'physical play.'  I struggle with this nexus because of how young players will 'hear' and respond to such commentary.  The dominant learning style of this generation of young players is visual. so what they see on HD, becomes an emerging reality as they develop their games.  It is, therefore, the responsibility of persons like Barkely, Smith, Miller, et al, to impugn this style.  Andersen, Smith and Martin do not prove they are 'men' through their willingness to intimidate with cheap fouls.  That is exchanging the truth of basketball for lie.  These players have willfully chosen a style of basketball that hurts the game. Every guy in the TNT/ESPN studios-- at least the former players-- should 'call-out' Martin, Smith and Anderson for their play-- in the context that 'young players should not emulate this.'  

The Nuggets denigrate 'real' basketball to 'fantasy' basketball. The reality is this: Denver is a  lousy defensive team-- instead of truly defending and playing 'help,' they want you to be afraid  of the flagrant foul.  It is my hope they are not rewarded for this approach.

The real game that people play--and love-- isn't a  video game. For years, Rasheed Wallace was portrayed as the 'poster child' for what's wrong with the NBA. I never understood that. Wallace was always one of my favorites. The difference between Wallace and Martin (and, Smith/Andersen) is that he is a polished player with real skills--who also played tough and physical defense. 

I don't want the NBA to die. I grew up sneaking into the Sports Arena to watch Jerry West and Elgin Baylor, so I know the game is amazing.  It simply must be protected from its enemies.

Amtrak Adventure in Austin

I was stuck in Austin-- weather. Just when I thought there was no way home, I thought about Amtrak. After a short ride to the Austin Amtrak Station, I learned that the train wasn't susceptible to hail or lightning. Presto, I learned there was a way out of Austin: the Train. When I saw this train pulling into the Austin station from San Antonio, I broke into more breathtaking smile. I like trains, yes I do.

Museums: "The Kell House"

In preparation for my television show, I am visiting 13 museums in Texas and Oklahoma.  The Kell House tells the story of an  American family who embodied the sketchy myth known as the "American Dream." Frank Kell was one amazing man. He and his business partner (Joseph Kemp) built planned housing developments in the early part of the 19th Century that were multi-racial. They welcomed the idea of selling to both blacks and whites. When the Katy Railroad told him that would not extend the line 26 extra miles from Henrietta to Wichita Falls, he said, "I'll build the 26 miles of track myself...then, will you serve our city." The railroad people said, "You can't do it, we'll fund a new station." The Katy railroad ended up building a terminal in Wichita Falls. But these are only some aspects of the amazing story that is Mr. Frank Kell. I wish I could have met the man. He was a visionary on par with Morgan, Carnegie and Madame "CJ" Walker!

A Leg Man

Some mornings, in the half-light of dawn, Leti saw hope for the future. But the hope was distant and far off. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Who knows?

 At 29, he was dismayed by the accident the caused him to lose his leg. His other leg, however, worked fine and quickly learned to take up the slack. Learning to live without a leg is a lot easier than learning to live without a thumb, or memory. Alzheimers, he quipped, would be eminently more difficult. He said there were things he missed about having two legs. Like the ease at which he used to climb stairs or the free flowing way he and his friends played soccer. I guess it is no longer possible to kick the dog with only one leg. This idea of being without a limb was distressing and weirdly liberating.

One becomes less inwardly focused and more attuned to the needs of others.  People with disabilities are more acutely aware of the world. A curb without a cut. Every bathroom, hotel room, sound room and clubroom that isn't accessible is an as apparent  as the blasting horn from a passing freight train.

 What you are less aware of, he reminded me, was the idea of limitations. Limitations, like skin color and race, morph into artificial barriers of the mind that enslave and encircle.

Leti has never planned this. I mean who really plans to lose a leg. When someone asks you on your 19^th birthday, "So, what will you be doing at 25,” no one says: "Well, I'll be learning to get around with only one leg." 

 When Leti came home over to watch the Duke  game, he asked me: "What do you think they did with my leg." I thought: "Medical waste," But I lied and said I didn’t know. He looked around and started to cry. My heart, at that moment went broke, sensing the humiliation that only an amputee knows intimately: " Nerves are not your friends,’ he said. “I mean--they are but they aren't'.  They tell you when pleasure is approached and they warn you of pain. Yet, they also lie and tell you that your legs needs to scratched, or there is a sharp pain in the ankle. You know it isn't true because that leg is gone, burned to a crisp in a furnace hotter than a thousand July's.”

 Yeah, I thought, nerves are a lot  like people. They mean well, they try their best, but they often lie to you. They don’t mean to lie.  Leti looked at me and asked it I was OK.  His abrupt question interrupted my fog of dreaming. I looked up and saw the Blue Devils were down by nine points. I  smiled and snapped back to reality. Life goes on, I thought. One chapter closes and another begins. And so it goes, even for those of us who have two legs.

 

Thanksgiving

16  years ago Dan Soliday and LaVerne Blanton--of a local Nazarene church --  asked Pete Stephenson and I to make a documentary film expressing  their vision for working with gang members, homeless and the working poor in east Fort Worth. This film entitled, "Iron Sharpens Iron," evolved into a tradition of serving Thanksgiving meals that lasts until this day. 

Given the choices made, perhaps they'd be better off as Crack Hoes?

Professional athletes (Plaxico Burris, Adam Jones are recent examples, but there are more) often make bad choices. Although Michael Vick was dealt a bad hand (he was, I think, tried in the media) I question his judgment on the whole ‘dog electrocution thing.’  For all the bad behavior that startles me about young black athletes, I must say that on yesterday I learned something far worse about young white nursing assistants.

Two 18-year old female nursing assistants, volunteering at the Good Samaritan Home in Southern Minnesota, committed acts against vulnerable adults (Alzheimer’s patients, stroke victims) so vile and humiliating that I cannot recount them here. The actions of these young female nursing assistants —many of a sexual nature, were instances of humiliation that makes one turn away. In many ways, it is like reading the New Yorker magazine accounts of the Abu Gharib torture scenario against detainees. What appears in the indictment seems like a narrative recounting the Spanish Inquisition.

How does this happen? Two girls, looking more like homecoming queens than crack whores, construct and execute torture and humiliation against vulnerable adults…in small town America, no less…are you kidding me?

This incident, perhaps, bespeaks a larger evil at work in the our culture: The illusion of parenting. Many athletes—of both races—are reared in the dreaded ‘single-parent’ home (advanced as a convenient false myth—for why boys misbehave.) I coached basketball for 20 consecutive years and that journey enlightened me to America’s ‘parenting crisis.’ Over time, I saw parents presenting more and more latitude—in terms of decision-making-- to their young athletes. Yes, I mean parents asking kids of 9 or 10 what sports they wished to play and whether of not they wanted to continue in the sports and whether they were happy with the coach.

 During my mid-twenties, I was away from coaching, still trying to play competitively. When I initially returned, I primarily worked with white kids. I looked at their insolent behavior and thought: “Ok, this is a racial thing.” The next season, I had black kids who, by and large, behaved similarly with their parents. I thought: “This is a generational thing.” After my third season, I concluded my bewildering observations were a microcosm of society.

There was nearly a ‘full-on’ abdication of decision-making from parents to children. I can’t tell you the number of parents of 15 year olds who stared at me and said, “I let little Mary make choices about where she wants to go to school.”  There isn’t time in the post to present all the psychological reasons why this is more than just poor parenting—it’s eroding basic strands of society’s DNA which turn on ‘respect for adults and leaders.’  Thus, I’ll present a physiological truth: A PhD friends— former Associate director of a top Medical school -- opined that the area of the brain controlling decision-making and choice isn’t fully formed until one reaches 24 years.

So, I ask: What are parents doing?

My years in the basketball coaching world showed me that today’s parents offer kids FAR too much latitude in decision-making and choices. I’m still speechless at the kids who had expensive mobile phones, MP3 players and a HD Television (in their rooms, mind you) but their parents rarely came to watch them play.

 Parents, it seemed, replaced ‘investments of time,’ with ‘bestowing gifts of technology.’ They mistakenly deduced that by giving little Mary or little Devin a ‘choice paradigm’ at a young age was akin to maturation development.  Twenty years of being around teenagers left me with an alternative viewpoint. The kids I met CRAVED someone to tell them what to do. The soft veneer was, “I want to make my own decision.” The internal plea was, “Someone please help me by telling me what I should do because I'm a 14 year-old lost soul.”

It’s a rare kid who at 15 can make good choices. After coaching and training hundreds of kids I say this with certainty: 90% of them shouldn’t have been allowed a driver’s license until they were 18, let alone make real life choices.

I have many flight attendants friends—they are quirky and pragmatic observers of society.  My friend Richetta—who flies out of New York’s Kennedy Airport-- says that the most ill-behaved, disrespectful, acrimonious children are U.S kids. Many of them, she says, speak to the parents in brutal , hostile language and are overtly rebellious. She further said: “…rarely, if ever, do kids from Latin American or Caribbean countries misbehave or show rudeness on flights or in the departure lounge. She told me one story—a Mom was traveling to Port-au-Prince with four kids under 10 years. The kids sat quietly, boarded orderly, took their seats and obeyed their Mom.

I don’t think the Mom of these Haitian kids will ever get a call saying her daughters have been charged with spitting into the mouth of 80 year old Alzheimer’s patient and recording the experiences for posterity on a new 2.0 mega pixel cell phone camera. I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

 

 

A pink Kia; A little red Hyundai...'Please God, No..."

"I'm going riding on the freeway of love, wind against my back...I'm going riding on the freeway of love in a Pink Cadillac...."

-Aretha Franklin

"The great political quagmire is  leaders who won't lead-- I fear it is rapidly becoming the way of big Corporations too."

-William McKinley

The first car I owned was a yellow Chevy Nova--the first car I loved was a Mustang. Since that first love, some 30 years ago, I haven't spent one dollar on anything not named Honda or Toyota.

Notwithstanding, I support a bailout for our friends in Detroit. Or, as the UAW  describes it: a 'temporary loan.' The manufacturing and mass production of automobiles, trucks and durable goods is central to the U.S. economy. Quick, can you think of a U.S.-owned television manufacturer?. Less than 60 years from being the pioneering leaders in the development of the technology, one can't find a U.S.- made set. And it's not just TVs. Consider washers, dryers, vacuum cleaners and lawn mowers. They were staples of the U.S. manufacturing food chain-- now, these products are made in Asia.

Thankfully, airplanes, computers and paper is still made in the U.S. And, Bell is making Hueys   Look around your neighborhood and ask: What large, durable goods in my house or garage--or in my neighbor’s house or garage-- are made by a U.S. workers?

Aside from cars made by the “Big '3," there isn't much happening in big-ticket manufacturing.  Although our friends in Detroit aren't that skilled in designing and manufacturing what customers want-- and need...--but, they must not be allowed to fail.

A quick lesson about Capitalism.: After the availability of the sustainable capital is established, three roots must be present:

1. Confidence

2. Stability

3. Sustainment of  the status quo

Capitalism functions where mass production is efficient -- and mass production must be systematic  Goods must be manufactured whether a market exists or not. Why? Because the system assumes a market will be created or found. And, with the "Big-3,"  a market was artificially created through incentives.  The overarching problem with an 'incentive-based' market is that it's unsustainable. Can one  thrive by making cars people really don't want, but  buy because they are 'easy to obtain.'  (If a Civic could be acquired with the ease of a Neon, who would own a Neon?)

People love their Hondas.  To a fault, the average Honda customers verbalizes this: " If   I get regular oil changes and replace my timing chain at 100K miles, this car will run forever." Does anyone believe that about a Neon, Camaro or Aveo?. I know more people driving Mustangs with 150K miles than I do Toyotas (though the Explorers and Expeditions seem to die off earlier than the Sequoias CR-Vs/)

Customers have little faith in the collective brand (and will)  of the "Big 3." Thus, there is no appetite for a bail out.  Yet, the aggregate failure of the "Big 3" could have a more deleterious effect on 'Main Street,' if you will, than Lehman Brothers and AIG combined. These groups merely had a  powerful advocate saying that our 'way of life' was at risk if  theirif their bailout wasn't approved.

The" Big 3" have no such advocate-- yet, their bailout is more important. The world of derivatives and paper transfer of wealth is obscure to most Americans so we don't overtly question what we don't understand....Rather, we trust our representatives and such to make good choices on our behalf.  But, the auto industry touches everyone-- and, that is precisely why the bailout is critical. With banks and insurance companies, the rich get richer with the bailout. With the Big 3, it is the guy who works for the company that works for the company that makes brake assemblies for the Hummer who  will be laid off with now prospect for recall.  The UAW is being made the straw man. The real issue is leadership and creating a business model that works.  The tentacles of the auto industry run deep. At least in Detroit, they are still manufacturing...and that, fundamentally, is good for America...except the American people don't understand why  autos and durable goods must be made here.   The real fault of leadership at the Big-3 is in not educating the American people about the connection between manufacturing and the American way of life.  The whims and prejudices of U.S. public opinion have turned against the "Big-3."  I'd start with educating the American people --especially if I wanted  $25 billion.

Hidden, in the moment, was the memory of that evening.

Since I am a writer, I know the dreams which blur the line separating sanity from the insane-- and, how easily one can get lost along the way. The sad man's  essay reached me on this November  morning. "One can't stop what's coming," so the smart ones among us say. What is coming is what we have chosen. If the path we have taken led us to this place-- at this moment-- was it the proper path? We have today. Tomorrow is unknown. The past is indelible. Today is what we have. In that abattoir conceals what is necessary to go on.  

I once befriended a chap from Mumbai, who denounced, with vigor, the existence of the Hebrew God and His son who landed at Glastonbury  on an uncommonly cold June morning  during the 'so-called' lost years. The chap from Mumbai, battling the the most angry of the cancers--she who invades  the pancreas- grabbed my hand with terror as he described the dreams of what lay beyond what we called life. He cried out, from places not covered by pain, for some Deity to save him from what was coming. It confirmed that death masks cover the face of no  agnostics and the deathbed is home to no atheist. As I say, "It's funny how life goes." Indeed.  Night dreams are not always dispensers of truth...so I have learned in the half-century sojourn. 

I remember when I could not sleep, except for the cheap Shiraz purchased at a convenience store run by a oddly dark-skinned man from Karachi and a  white girl  from Sweetwater-- an unlikely combination, but who am I to say. They sold it inexpensively and I arrived like clockwork to buy it. I wonder if Christ  turned the water into Shiraz or something else. It's on my list of things to ask Him on that day when I give account for my failures of which there have been many.