Kickoff & Community

Georgia has four seasons. Ice Storm, Dogwood, Heat Stroke, and Football.

Football season began last night.

This is a cultural event in small southern towns. Understanding the significance of what exactly happens under the lights on any given Friday in Georgia might explain what communities are all about. 

I walked to the stadium in time for the 7 pm kickoff. Kickoff was at 7:30. I paid the admission price for my son. Then he promptly disappeared to engage in the social activities of middle schoolers in our community, only some of which involve watching the game. I found my seat and then waited as the crowd trickled in. 

Within a few minutes, I had neighbors. People that I do not know but whom were dressed a lot like me and we talked like old friends...which is rare for an introvert...but it's football, so there's that. Then, just as I was wondering if my neighbor (not these strangers next to me, my buddy from across the street) was there, I turned and there he was. We talked football, local happenings, and a little about his time as the principal of the school.

Then came the marching band, marching and playing familiar tunes that we all associate with our gatherings in that place. They were dressed in t-shirts and shorts as Heat Stroke & Football have decided to cohabitate for a while.

The teams were warming up and the public address announcer (which is a fancy synonym for David) was making announcements, including birthdays and anniversaries of people who are probably not all that famous south of Dry Creek or north of the lumber yard but we all knew who he was talking about. 

Then our team huddled up, took a knee, and prayed. The A.C.L.U. would probably have a fit but this isn't their community. Besides, we figure if Bible Belt team prayers don't offend our Islamic head coach, some bored lawyers can probably deal with it.

Then we, as a community, stood, placed our hats over our hearts and observed a moment of silence to reflect on the people who defend our freedom abroad and keep our community safe. Then the band played the national anthem while our local Boy Scout troop raised the flag to the top of the mast.

And then our team, our marching band, and our cheerleaders did their thing. They showed us what hours of training, practice, and dedication have enabled them to do. Our kids, the future of our community, received our encouragement, our elation at their successes and probably a hint of our disappointment when things went worse than we hoped. But mostly we allowed them to participate in the maintenance of our traditions, our community. 

So what looks like a performance is actually something much larger and more important. This is how small town high school football games in The South become gathering of the community with a common sense of purpose built on the dreams of our kids.

This is how torches are passed. 

Renaissance

Let's address something that's bugging me. 

Confessional time. I don't like Rush Limbaugh. I don't like Sean Hannity. I really don't like Ann Coulter. 

This isn't completely new. I liked all three of these folks and their programs not all that long ago. But I've stretched out some. I've investigated my beliefs. I've struggled with my convictions and I've landed quite comfortably in a new political camp. 

I'm a Conservative.

That doesn't sound right, does it? A Conservative that doesn't like that trio? Yep. That's because I'm finding my conservative roots sunk into the old guard of Conservatism. And it's time Conservatism changed...back. 

It hasn't been all that many years since William F. Buckley Jr. represented more intellectual power than all the liberal minds of his day. All of them combined couldn't tote Buckley's briefcase. And that was just Buckley. That's not Russell Kirk, Wendell Berry, and many others.

And now, the public voices of Conservatism are more like clowns. Loud, in your face and hard to take seriously. They say brash things and push the envelope of decency and leave me wondering exactly what it is we are trying to conserve. 

Conservatism is about conserving our traditions, our culture, arts, architecture, history, sciences.It's an intellectual philosophy that is based in truth. Its principles have been tried and they work. Its adherents understand the principles and are capable of thinking for themselves. They're no one's ditto head.

Environmental policy - real environmental policy that conserves our planet while respecting private property and maintaining a sustainable economy is a Conservative principle. Community is a conservative value. Preserving our monuments, our downtown districts, our significant places, and our stories are all Conservative principles. Understanding who we are, where we came from and why we are here, while holding those connections up high for younger generations to recognize are all Conservative principles.

Yelling at Alan Colmes on TV for a solid hour is not a Conservative principle. Saying something just for the sake of shock value is not a Conservative principle. Being married 47 times and still fighting for the sanctity of marriage is not a Conservative principle. 

You can watch what you want to and listen to what you want to. But you'll get more out of a 20 minute archived Firing Line segment on YouTube than you will a month and a half of non-stop Limbaugh.

And from there, it only gets better. I'll have you tying your own bow tie in no time. 

Robin Williams

I have not (and probably never will) made a habit of discussing my primary employment on the blog. There is an intentional separation there for the sake of appropriateness. But there are times where my professional experiences allow me some insight that makes a little writing necessary.

The news about Robin Williams has saddened me, as it has so many others. I was a big fan and loved his work. He challenged me to think about things while, at the same time, making me laugh. A lot.

Here's how these two paragraphs are related. I've seen suicide up close. My job has led me into the knowledge of the multiple ways that human beings destroy themselves. No matter how many times I see how many different methods, one item remains unchanged. That hollow, hopeless feeling of despair that accompanies each and every incident. Knowing that you're looking at someone who had reached their limit. It's sad, every time. 

But today's reports that included the details of how and where Robin Williams deprived us all of himself - the man, not just his roles - were far more than we needed to hear. That information is pertinent to the investigation of his death and other than the police, his family are the only people who need to know. 

For the rest of us, the word "suicide" should suffice. It communicates everything perfectly clear - the joy he brought to so many often remained out of his reach. 

And that is where we failed him.

That is where the stigma our society places on drug abuse and depression helped to drive him and his problems into the shadows while leaving the picture perfect facade of his personality standing as a disguise. 

What makes Robin Williams any different than the other thousands of people that will kill themselves this year is that so many of us recognized him and had positive, even loving, feelings for him. The more important difference is that we can't help him now. But his death can raise our awareness of the others in our lives that need someone that cares - without judgement or disdain. Offer your shoulder, offer your ear, offer understanding. Be quick to listen and slow to speak. 

The danger is real. Robin Williams just showed us that. We can learn from it or we can bury someone else, maybe someone much closer to home.