GRATEFUL LIST

 I watched a movie the other night, and although I have no idea what the title was, it made me start thinking. I’m the same way with books. Most of the time, I have no idea who wrote the novel nor what the title is. If either a movie or a book catches my interest quickly, I stay with it to the end. If not, I put it down or turn it off. One character says that he writes to the sky his daily 10 things for which he is grateful. This is the season, not just the day, that all of us should all take a little time in the morning to come up with 10 things, great or small, that raise in us gratefulness. This should be an easy project, so here goes. 

I’m grateful for my immediate family. My wife is my best friend and has held that position for 48 years. Amy has single-handedly been responsible for making sure the bills are paid and that a little money is saved. Her attention to our financial well-being has ensured that we will be okay in the years to come. She’s always had time to listen to my hair-brained ideas. When they are too far out, she gently reels me back to reality and logical thinking. My children, Lacey and Dallas, have given me joy for the most part. Some years were rough, but as adults, they’ve proven themselves to be fine individuals. I couldn’t be prouder of them. Grandson Madden has always made me smile. He now is a teenager, and other than when he was a toddler, I like him best at this age.  

I’m grateful that God gave me a twin brother.  He’s been my best buddy since our lives began. As a little one, I’d tell Jim, “Get up and get me up.” He’d work his bed until the side fell, climb down, and rescue me from those baby bed bars. We’ve fought over the years, but for the most part, we’ve been close. These days, we work well together to complete all sorts of projects.  

I’m grateful for Sadie, our rescue pooch. She came to us at a low time in our lives, and she loved us and gave us something on which to focus our minds other than the problems that had appeared. I say she’s Jesus’ dog who is on loan to us. Amy and I are trained well and snap to attention when Sadie unloads a loud, mean-sounding bark. No night is complete without the three of us sitting on the couch together. When this child stretches out for a nap, her snores come so loudly that we adjust the tv volume.  

I’m grateful for a warm home. Fall turned to winter in the blink of an eye, but we were able to adjust the thermostat and sit in the family room and enjoy the warmth.  

I'm grateful for the new winter coat that Amy found at a good price. It will come in handy on our trip to New York. That coat will come in handy around her as well. We never know what kind of weather is coming.’ 

I’m grateful for this paper for allowing me to write a weekly column. Having someplace to express my feelings and ideas is a blessing. This paper has been a good friend for years. 

I’m grateful for my 1987 Pathfinder. We bought the car for $10,300. For 35 years, this car has hauled baseball players, landscaping timber, and items headed for KARM. A couple of rust spots have popped up, but other than that, she’s good to go.  For such an old car, it has low mileage. My son knows this is part of his inheritance.  

I’m grateful for my battery-operated impact drill. That tool makes driving long screws simple, and its poswer is a blessing to someone whose strength is slowly dwindling.  

I’m grateful for my yard. The leaves are under control after 10-12 mowing time.This piece of property is small enough for me to take care of, but large enough to keep folks from moving in on top of me.  

I’m grateful to live in a country where individuals realized the dangers to the country and show up in unexpected numbers to save democracy. I’m also proud of al those who participated in the process. 

See if you are able to come up with ten things. It might take a while, but focusing on those things makes our lives fuller. Do this for a week and see if you don’t look and the world differently. 

CRITICAL THINKING

 Critical thinking is defined as “the objective analysis and evaluation of an issue in order to form a judgment.” This skill is taught in schools today, but the explanation of it, and the assignments that are paired with the term make critical thinking seem to be a difficult task that only the greatest of minds can complete. Leave it to education to take something easy and make it impossible to understand. 

Now, in some settings, critical thinking can be a much more difficult process. Using the skill in literature or philosophy can be torturous. The reading of a great novel is assigned, and students must complete a critical analysis of the book. In philosophy, students are given the task of studying a philosophical idea and applying it to life. To Kill a Mockingbird is one of the greatest novels ever written, and its messages have been clear to readers for years. Existentialism is a philosophy that isn’t so easily understood. Individuals must put more effort into understanding it and then applying the wholeness of it to life. Still, both require critical thinking.  

 The use of critical thinking skills continuously enters our daily lives. Moms go to the grocery stores for the week’s groceries. A lists of items help them in making choices for meals. My dear wife analyzes the contents of most items she takes from the shelves. Some products have too many unhealthy ingredients for her to buy them. Sometimes, the ingredients of a name brand are identical to those of a generic one. Based on those two things and others of which I am not privy, Amy loads her buggy with items for meals and snacks.  

I taught high school English for 30 years. My students wrote plenty of essays, and I graded them by putting chapter numbers from the Harbrace Handbook beside mistakes. Some folks said I graded too harshly because some papers looked as if I’d bled on them. My students knew what I was doing. I read what they had created and scored them based on an analysis of their use of grammar and writing rules. After that, I assigned grades based on that criteria. No, I wasn’t interested in letting the students express their inner beliefs or writing conventions. My goal was to teach them to write essays that would pass in a college class or help them to better express themselves in work world situations. 

Educational institutions have ways of making the simple difficult. They accomplish this by giving lofty names to everyday things. Critical thinking is nothing more than common sense. Any problem can be solved with the use of it. The simplest example might deal with money. A person wants a new car because his old one has many miles on it. The person goes shopping and discovers the soaring prices of new cars, especially when extras are added. He drops by Carmax and sees that prices for low mileage vehicles are more to his liking. At home, the buyer looks at the cost of the car and monthly payment. Then he looks at his other bills and monthly income. If he can meet the car payment, along with the rest of his bills, he might decide to purchase a vehicle. However, he might also decide to have his present car checked over and keep it for a while as he saves up money to buy a car in the future. That process is the long and short of “critical thinking.” Analyzing something is taking it apart to look at components. The judgement about that thing is based on the information gained from the analysis.  

I have talked to few authors in my lifetime, and none of them wrote scholarly things. Most of those writers that students studied were dead. Unless they revealed analyses of their works, I believe anyone can write a good one as long as he uses common sense and backs it up with examples from the text.  

Critical thinking isn’t so hard, is it? Other more scholarly folks might disagree with my analysis, but I’m not so sure they would be any more correct. I produced it through critical thinking.  

Trip to Muddy Pond

 When I published my first book, Baseball Boys, I received an invitation to speak at Beaver Ridge United Methodist Church in Karns. It’s the church I grew up in and where I learned many of the beliefs I hold today. The group to whom I spoke was called the Senior Beavers. I recognized most of the folks there because they were members back when I was a child. I enjoyed the time with those folks but swore I would never be one of them.  

I remembered that one should not say "never.” To drive that point home like stepping barefoot on a nail, I told my dear wife that I would drive us and a couple of riders to the trip’s destination. The thought of her being stranded in the car with no help bothered me too much.  

A van filled with Senior Beavers and a couple of cars left at 9:30 a.m. Thanks to the planning of David Voyles, our trip would take us to Muddy Pond, which doesn’t sound like the sort of place that folks would intentionally visit. However, the place is actually a community where visitors can stop at stores and other places.  

Muddy Pond is located in or near Monterey, TN. Our journey took us through Oak Ridge, Oliver Springs, Wartburg and up Highway 62 into the country. The scenery is beautiful and akin to the Smoky Mountains. A turn off the highway feels as if it leads to a far-out road, one that killers travel to bury bodies. Still, the fields and woods are sensationally beautiful.  

guests in the backseat were Launa Pennell and Mira Voyles, David’s mom. We began talking even before the engine started. Come to find out, both women lived in the Ball Camp community and attended school at Karns High. Launa knew my mother well; Mira lived just up the road and across the railroad tracks from our house. As we gabbed, I discovered that I knew her youngest brother Kenneth. He was a senior when I was a freshman and was one of the cool kids at the school.  

The three of us recalled all sorts of places, things, and events from years ago, and I felt sorry for Amy, who had grown up in Cookeville. She had no idea about most of the people and things we covered.  

Our stops included a store where molasses were made using steam. When I visited Muddy Pond during a festival 40 years ago, mules walked in a circle as part of the process. Women in our group exited with fried pies and lemon chess pies and bottles of the brown, sugary syrup. 

 Farther down the road, women entered another store and loaded up carts with items used for baking. Upstairs were some pieces of furniture made by residents. I finally found something worth buying: peanut brittle. It could only have been better if the peanuts were not in the candy. 

We continued the journey by traveling to Cumberland Mountain State Park. There we feasted on the restaurant’s daily buffet. I talked with Joe and Mary Hunt about his back surgery, something I had 20 years ago. Jackie Dailey, who used to work at the post office when it was located at the Karns redlight, talked about the old times at the church. Her sons, Gary and Rick, were friends, and I used to sing in choir with her husband Joe.  

Amy and I arrived home about 3:30 that afternoon. I was tired from driving, but the trip helped me to appreciate those Senior Beavers so much. They carry the history of the church. Many of them attended when BRUMC was nothing more than a single church building with crowded classrooms and a sanctuary with a balcony. I appreciate those people who told me stories about my mother and daddy and who remembered Jim and me as something a bit better than monsters.  

It also occurred to me that I have put on enough years to qualify as a Senior Beaver. These days, I find that being a part of such a wonderful group isn’t so bad.  

 

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