Dedication and Honor

Today we dedicated a building on campus to the man who was university President during its conception and building. Not only was he president, he is also a chemist who used to do research in the area that was a predecessor to the subject of the building, so it is appropriate on many levels.

It is nice to see people get honored for the work they do in this world, yet I continually find myself asking internally what the lasting value of it is. Is it just a hardier laurel wreath or will the good work so and so has done last beyond the memories of those present, and even longer, into eternity. I hope so.

Humbled by Honor

I’m the president of a local civic club. Today was our monthly lunch meeting, and the speaker had requested a video projector and screen. John is a friend who has these items to use in his ministry and willingly lets me borrow them when needed.

There was just one problem. I forgot to ask to borrow them.

The speaker emailed me about an hour and a half before the meeting confirming the equipment would be there. I thought, “Oh, <insert flowery vocabulary of blessing and warm feelings>”

Ten Years

It is right and appropriate to jump on the bandwagon of everyone remembering 9/11. It has fundamentally shaped how we have interacted with the rest of the world, almost as much as WWII. Yes, I still maintain that WWII has so far had a greater impact that 9/11, but it had a 60 year head start. Given time, 9/11 may well surpass it, though both world wars set the stage for 9/11 in how the Middle East was carved up by the fading colonial powers. We did very little to alleviate those problems and thus have inherited them.

It has shaped my life directly as well. While I don’t know anyone personally that was lost that day, one very close friend lost a friend in the towers. Another acquaintance lost a brother I think in the Pentagon. Friends from grad school were on the observation deck the Saturday 3 days before. Mike remarked to me in an email shortly afterwards, “I remember standing on the roof and thinking how solid it was.”

Cactus Pryor

Yesterday, Austin lost a local icon and legend. Richard “Cactus” Pryor died Tuesday (August 30) at age 88. He worked in local broadcast media for sixty years, mostly at the radio station once owned by the LBJ family. Rather than rehash what others are saying about him, I’ll just offer links.

So why talk about him here? I always admired him, and want to honor him on my stage. The one time we met, we talked Longhorn football and his favorite word. He always signed off saying, “Cactus Pryor, Thermostrockermortimer.” Everyone, including everyone at the station, longed to know what it meant. Of course, he refused to reveal it to me, a stranger. He once said somewhere, "The phrase is in the Bible; if you don't find it, keep reading."

I’m not sure if anyone really knows even now, although, a former coworker of his called in to the station today claiming he told her recently that “It doesn’t mean a #%$@%$ ^#@#$  $^%$^%&* thing.” Fair enough.

Virtue in Education

I came across this story today with the picture to the left about how the “Old Guard” patrols, maintains and honors Arlington National Cemetery. In particular, it tells of how the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is guarded every second of every day and has for over 63 years, including through this weekend’s hurricane Irene.

The soldiers in the Old Guard view this assignment as the very highest honor they could ever have. They are fallen human beings like the rest of us, and I have no idea what their personal lives are like. But at the very least, in this area, they display some of the highest virtues humanity can express.

Honor, and Those That Should Receive It

It’s fun to be young. We have our strength, energy, good looks (some of us), and we have the semblance of wisdom (fewer of us). Everything exists for today when we are young and the future is gloriously more of the same only better, because we won’t ‘get old’ like the others before us—how can we in these fine bodies we have?

This year my grandfather celebrated his 89^th birthday and grandma her 90^th. Today, I attended a party celebrating a colleague’s 90^th birthday. Another colleague said his mom is about to celebrate her 96^th birthday. In each of the three lives I can directly observe, they are not strong in the way we think, but are frail. They move slowly and tire more easily than they used to. The look good for their age. But in large measure they do have wisdom. Some have aged more gracefully than others who have fought the reality of their lessening abilities.

Planting a Semester

With the first summer term starting Thursday, I’m busy doing my semester prep, which consists of about 25 things, some minor and some major, that need to be done every semester. Much of it must wait until very shortly before and even after classes start. Some are as simple as reserving rooms for various meetings during the semester and some are as complex as reconfiguring web pages that have a difficult user interface, but that aren’t available until shortly before the term starts. Much of it is busy drudgery that takes enough brain power that it isn’t easily automated or delegated.

I started thinking about how the beginnings and endings of terms are always my busiest and most stressful times, and there simply isn’t much that can be done about them. It is very cyclical, so I started thinking about other life cycles and realized that the academic term for a faculty member can best be compared to the growing season for a farmer.

Title versus Testimony

Today in church, the pastor related a story that is perfect for TSR. Apparently he went to seminary in New Orleans and he and a buddy attended an African-American church in the 5^th ward, the only two white boys there. Apparently, the pastor at this church, Brother Tim, would every year have a special service where the youth would come up and share their blessings from the previous year.

Given how depressed and horrible the neighborhood was, it was amazing to hear the opportunities these kids were eking out for themselves. One young man described his getting a full ride to MIT, and a young lady, holding her violin, shared about her acceptance into Julliard, and so on.

At the conclusion of these moving stories of success, Brother Tim got up, and in his full-throated Southern Gospel best preachin’ voice, would bellow out the following:

“You’re all gonna die! You’re all gonna die! They gonna put you in th’ ground. They gonna throw dirt on your face. Then, they gonna go back to th’ church and eat potato salad. So, my question for you, today, is, you may have a title, but do you have a testimony?”

SDG