Sportingly Speaking

The suggested topic for today’s post is to share my favorite sports to watch and play. Given my age and physical condition, playing sports is not totally out of the question, but so far, I have not come under the spell of the “Pickle Ball” craze, and I gave up golf some time ago because of its time-consuming nature.

I loved the game. Still, taking most of a day out of my week to chase a little white ball around a 6,000-foot course seemed selfish given my other responsibilities and commitments. I still love the game and watch the pros play on television as often as possible.

I am also a big fan of football, baseball, and many Olympic sports. I don’t often pay the price to see any of those events in person, but I watch them, especially the playoff games. To wrap this little bit of sharing up, I admit my favorite sport to play was one I seldom watch on television.

That sport was rugby. I say it was because rugby is not a sport for someone who exited his 60s several years ago. As for why I don’t watch rugby on television, it is because I am spoiled, I suppose. Part of the rugby experience is being on the sidelines, watching the sweat fly, and hearing the grunts and groans of contact.

My Rugby Brothers 1980s

The other part was the nature of amateur rugby, which I played for over twenty years. It was like playing with family. In those days, at least, my rugby club was an extension of my family. My daughters were raised watching me play and knowing all my teammates. Even today, almost three decades after I retired from rugby, getting together with my old mates is like a family reunion.

If you’d like to know more about my rugby family, check out “Nostalgically Speaking: Blood, Sweat, and Beer” or “Blood, Sweat and Beer.” BS&B was my first post on my rugby family. It was published in 2012 and is a bit long. Still, it will give you some insight into rugby and what kind of guy I am.

© oneoldcop.com 2024

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Me and Books

As someone who grew up reading everything he could get his hands on, I find myself somewhat disinterested in books these days. As I write this, I am glancing over at two bookcases with dozens of books ranging from reference works to books on the law, history, religion, and writing.

As I walk down the stairs from my home office, several dozen more are shelved on the landing, ranging from fiction to local history. Of course, there are books in the bookcase in the den and hundreds of paperback science fiction publications from my youth stored in the attic.

Additionally, others have recently given me books on the read-me-next table near my bed. I just finished two from that stack and will tackle another soon.

So, if the equivalent of a small library surrounds me, why would I find myself disinterested in books these days? First, I no longer read for entertainment. I wish that were not the case in some ways, but that is my reality.

The preceding does not mean I am not entertained by some of what I read. At times, I am entertained by what I read. Sadly, it is not like the days of my youth and young adult years. There is a reason for that. In fact, I wrote about this a year ago this week. Check out Of Authors Old and New, and let me know what you think.

© oneoldcop.com 2024

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Traditionally Speaking

Today, the challenge or prompt is to write about a few of my favorite family traditions. My first reaction to the prompt was less than enthusiastic. After all, if you’ve seen any of my previous work, you may have some ideas about my early years. I mean, when I use the term urban nomads to describe my birth family, it should give you some idea about my earlier life.

The only repeated behavior that seemed to become a tradition was pulling up stakes and moving. We could box up, pack up, and move faster than most moving companies in those days. Of course, another aspect of that life was the tradition of finding a way to fit in at our new school and with neighborhood kids.

I was on the verge of writing something snarky about the prompt. I even started to research my previous and unfinished works to bolster my feeling the prompt meant little, if anything, to me. Then I remembered something I wrote last year that came from another online suggestion for a topic: Another Humpday Night.

There was one favorite tradition that is still around. It is discussed in “Another Humpday Night.” If you have a few minutes, I encourage you to read it. It shows that a silly little tradition from your youth can sometimes play a big role later in your life. Of course, as you’ll read in Humpday Night, your kids may think you have a screw loose.

© oneoldcop.com 2024

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Leisure Time?

Leisure time! What a wonderful sounding term. One can imagine lounging by the pool, walking through a beautiful park, or sipping a glass of your favorite adult beverage concoction while watching the squirrels and birds compete for the seed in your bird feeder. Yes, one can imagine those things, but they are getting harder and harder for many of us to experience.

Whether you are talking about Boomers like me or whatever term is used for other population segments, leisure time is becoming harder and harder to experience. Some will shake their head and think I’m overly pessimistic or something. I am a student of humanity, politics, and many other interests.

I am not talking about inactivity time or just doing nothing time. Leisure time is when one can get away from the daily grind, be that a job, going to school, taking care of yourself, taking care of family, or doing anything else to make a buck or bettering yourself somehow.

It is also a time when you can escape society’s problems and challenges. Sadly, thanks to technological advancements, walking through the woods, lounging by the pool, or having a drink while watching animals eat and play is regularly interrupted by the troubles you hoped to forget for a moment or two.

So, what do I consider leisure time and enjoy the most about that time? I took the advice of a very smart lady I met decades ago. She was president of a well-known women’s university and was speaking to a group of administrative types in the public sector.

I cannot remember her exact words, but I can recall the session. At one point, she looked each of us in the eye and said there was one place where she could have a bit of solitude, time to relax and read or consider something important. She then smiled and said the bathroom.

Yes, she was very serious, and she was right. Sitting on the porcelain throne for long periods may not be good for certain parts of your anatomy, but using it is a good way to seclude yourself, mull something over, or proofread your work.

I adopted that policy for the rest of my administrative career and still use it today to get some quiet time. One of my colleagues even made something for me to memorialize my leisure time at work.*

https://dollhousecity.com/out-house-natural/

* The original model was unfortunately destroyed during a relocation. The one above, should you want one, can be ordered through the link in the caption area.

© oneoldcop.com – 2024

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Not On Your Life!

Today, the challenge is to write something interesting about a tourist trap near me that I’ve never gotten around to visiting. First, I need to make a confession. Not only have I never taken the time to “experience” the “attraction” I will talk about, I never will.

Why, you ask? The answer is both simple and complex. First, if you look up attractions in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, one of the tourist draws with multiple variations and adaptations involves the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

I do not need to visit the book depository, the grassy knoll, or any of the other areas the travel industry promotes. I lived through the entire experience as a senior in high school. With a father in the news business and contacts in law enforcement, we got all the information, rumors, accusations, whatever before they made the television screen or the radio in some instances.

I have driven past the site of the assassination hundreds of times in the intervening years. Never once have I stopped to walk around or take pictures. I am not interested in playing tourist at a historical site like that.

© oneoldcop.com – 2024

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Only Five?

To some I am a contrarian. To others, I am a Wanna-Be punster. Still, to others, I am the master of Dad Jokes. So, when the writing prompt for the day is something such as, “List five things you do for fun,” the still active parts of my mind have a contest to see which can produce the most sarcastic, amusing, or startling list, thoughts, or blog.

If that seems strange, remember a couple of weeks ago I wrote “Playfully Speaking.” I can find something fun, amusing, or at least interesting in some of the weirdest situations. That’s partly because of the way I was raised, and surviving three decades of law enforcement taught me the value of gallows humor.

So, what five things do I do for fun? Well, it depends on the day of the week, the problems facing me that day, or who needs to loosen up a bit. For example, a couple of years ago, I injured my back to the point where I had to call an ambulance to get me out of bed and carry me down the hill from my house to the ambulance.

The head EMT could tell how much pain I was in and was very empathetic. He continually apologized for the fact he did not have anything in the ambulance strong enough to relieve my pain. So, every bump in the road elicited a groan and a grimace out of me.

But, before he could finish saying, “I’m sorry,” I’d tell him a war story or jokes about my twenty-year amateur rugby career and the injuries I survived. Those years helped me become somewhat accustomed to pain and discomfort. In every case, I had a story that made someone cringe while they tried to hide their amusement.

So the bottom line is this. I have things I do that meet the standard definition of fun for many folks. However, fun is a subjective feeling. Most of us cannot control our physical pain, but we can avoid having it destroy us if we can find humor in painful situations.

My weird sense of humor is one of the things that helps keep me semi-sane.

Copyright © 2024

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Let Me Introduce You To Snoop Kitty

At first, today’s challenge left me a bit cold. We no longer have pets and are unlikely to have them again. As I told a friend some time ago, we’ve outlived too many pets. Besides, we live in a neighborhood brimming with pets, some of whom are sociable free roamers. I’ve even written about one of them a couple of times.

That is his name in the title of this piece. He is an outdoor cat who leaves home around dawn and returns home when he’s good and ready. His human mom is not too happy with him when he doesn’t come home on her schedule, but she’s learned to live with his resistance to punching a time clock.

Snoop loves our place, and we were his regular lunch stop for a time. However, he was having breakfast down the street, a snack around the corner, lunch at our place, and an early supper across the street. That made his return home time later and later.

Snoop is guarding some ice chests and patio furniture.

His humans asked everyone to stop feeding him so he would come home while they were still up and around to love on him. That brings me to the point of this piece. I wish I could make Snoop understand he’s still our favorite four-legged acquaintance, but we need him to quit hanging around so much.

If you’d like to learn more about Snoop and his antics, check out Snoop’s Fiefdom and Standoff on the Cul-de-sac.

© oneoldcop.com – 2024

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Confusingly Me

Today, I have been asked, or ordered, given the tone of the prompt, to write about my first name.* The instructions continued to include origin, etymology, significance, meaning, etc. The problem is, those things had no connection to my mother’s decision. She chose to name me Eric Stephen Jackson.

Mom named me after a German actor, Erich von Stroheim, and Stephen Foster, an American composer. I learned later in life that she named me Erich because he was a famous actor and director. She named me after Stephen Foster because he was known as “the father of American music.” Whether that is the true story or not, her name choices created a conflict. This conflict put me in an uncomfortable position long before I knew what an uncomfortable position was.

The problem was that Mom and Dad lived with my grandfather when I was born. Grandpa Jackson had been a Navy man during World War I. There was no way any grandson of his would be named Erich after a German. This was true even if the German was an acclaimed American actor. One who was also a director and played American soldiers in the movies.

Eventually, a truce was declared in the Jackson household, and I was officially named Stephen Eric Jackson. Grandpa Jackson needed the last word. He started calling me Stevie. He didn’t like Stephen for some reason. That went over with my mom like a lead balloon, and the battle was on.

She began to use nicknames for me. Neither of my given names was used again during my time living in that household. I was Butchy, George, Sam, Buddy, or whatever came to mind, but never Eric, Steve, or Stevie.

So, you see, none of the things people look up names for, such as entomology and history, meant anything to me or my family. I did not know my legal name until I was sixteen. This led to some interesting and amusing issues later in my life. If I ever finish editing my memoir, you might learn the story behind my name morphing into S. Eric Jackson.

Here is one amusing, in a way, thought in closing. I was probably one of the few police officers in the U.S. who were hired with more aliases than many of the crooks they put in jail during their careers.


* This was originally written as part of a WordPress writing challenge. WP sent out prompts daily that challenged users to write about a particular topic or idea.

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The Fantasy Zone: Dream Job

Okay! It’s Saturday. I’m in my home office pondering the question, “What’s your dream job?” All right, I’m not pondering it, as I already know the answer, “I don’t have a dream job.”

I did have dreams about certain jobs in my younger days. Until reality slapped me in the face in my senior year in high school, I dreamed of being in the U. S. Air Force and becoming a pilot. What could be greater than helping protect your country and fly through the clouds as part of your service?

When the pilot thing went the way of the wind, I still wanted to be of service somehow, so I went into law enforcement. Maybe I couldn’t fly at Mach 1 with my hair on fire, but I could drive fast, help keep my community safe, and play with guns!

My law enforcement career turned out to be interesting, fun, rewarding, and extremely educational in some ways. After law enforcement, I had other vocational experiences, but none were dream-job caliber.

I served as an adjunct professor at my Alma Mater for a decade. I also became a public speaker and life coach, ending my employment history as a real estate broker.

All of my jobs had positive and negative aspects. They were also educational. For example, they helped me understand there are no dream jobs. The dream part is what you do with the job, how you see it, and yourself.

The fun thing about my vocational odyssey was how various groups or entities received me. I have a wall full of plaques awarded to me because of one position or another. Some are serious, and some are fun. All are meaningful.

All of those acknowledgments make me feel good about the job I did. Still, they do not elevate my jobs or positions to dream status. The reality is the dream part comes from little or unexpected things.

In one case, a young man took part of his Christmas break from college to look me up at the police department. I had detained him and some others when he was a pre-teen. He wanted to thank me for how I handled him and his buddies. He credited me with helping him make it to college and be able to take the next step in his career goals. Click here to read that story.

I could share other stories about people I interacted with over the years. Many believed I helped them achieve their goals. However, the main point is this. It’s not a job that is great or a dream. It is how you perform it and how you handle yourself that leads to the satisfaction or dream part.

© oneoldcop.com 2024

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Leadership

It’s sadly funny that people from all over the globe are being asked to write about the question, “What makes a good leader?” Why is that funny, sadly or otherwise?

It’s funny for two reasons. First, I wrote about the subject, coming at it from a slightly different angle, late last year in a post titled; “Could Be, Should Be? I do not highlight leadership in that piece, but successful, true leaders have the characteristics mentioned in the post.

Second, is the fact WordPress allows its users to reach around the world with their thoughts. Having some direct experience with other countries as well as studying politics and governmental operations in other countries, it is clear leaders and leadership can vary culturally and geographically.

Even as I write this, and later when others read it, there is clear evidence available to anyone paying attention that humanity’s understanding of leadership varies tremendously from one country and time to another.

In closing the piece referenced above, I mentioned several people who were and still are considered successful leaders in their time. Then I mentioned a couple who were considered infamous leaders in their time. All had very similar leadership characteristics.

© oneoldcop.com 2024

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