Christopher Cross was the signature figure for the Yacht Rock era. You know, the time that lasted from the late 1970s to through the early 1980s.
Ok, so maybe that point is under debate. Maybe those of you who want to find another figure or group to debate with the RJB over this proclamation can do so. Maybe you simply don’t care.
A Grammy award winner, Cross is also a Texan. The native of San Antonio came on to the scene in the late 1970s and won Grammys for Sailing and Arthur’s Theme.
By now, the RJB has taken you through everywhere. There have been some hard rock presentations, a little bit of rap, musical scores and classics.
Two weeks ago, the RJB took you through the reggae with the late Bob Marley with inspiration. Last week, we stood down for Victor Obi’s announcement.
This week, we focus on one of Cross’ hits, which also brings some inspiration. Artists are artists because they can tap into that emotion.
****
On Sunday, we all exhaled when President Trump announced that the national mitigation guidelines to combat COVID-19 would remain in place until April 30.
But I will say that unlike the initial 15-day jolt we were given on March 16 and the confusion and anxiety that soon followed, this announcement was probably met with a little more frustration than shock.
However, I think we knew this was coming. Maybe going through the end of April is longer than we thought.
We take solace in the fact that maybe these are working. There was the stat that had the United States just let the virus run its course and not done anything, the potential of 2.2 million deaths would have been the result. Because of what we’re doing, we’re hopefully reducing this unknown number to some significance.
Then you were just told you were going to have to celebrate Easter like you have never done in your life. But if you do it from the safety of wherever you live and not at a hospital wrought with anxiety and sorrow for a loved one or friend battling this virus, then you’ve done well.
We’ve all had some introspection from a financial standpoint and worried about everything that is involved in it. I worry about it every day. We’re all human. How can we not?
In that mental struggle, I would like to think that day by day that my appreciation for my family and my health becomes more and more valued.
For instance, my family did a movie night on Saturday. We had some finger foods, called up a comedy and laughed for two hours.
On Thursday, my daughters were watching the movie Invincible with Mark Wahlburg, a sports movie I had actually never seen. But the Razorback called me into her room with the Crimson Tide and we just watched it.
They asked me a lot of questions about the 1970s. That’s when I was a kid. They laughed when I would groan at how awful that decade was in terms of style of clothing, style of cars, style of hair and everything else that was connected to those 10 brutal years.
It would beg my question of the 1970s: What were they thinking?
We would not have had this opportunity if it was a normal school year. But I can’t complain seeing them every day. Mrs. Razorback and I are taking more walks together. Where we’ve lost in certain areas, we’ve gained in others.
And then I keep thinking to the opening lines of Lee Greenwood’s Proud to be American where it starts:
If tomorrow all the things were gone I'd worked for all my life
And I had to start again with just my children and my wife
I'd thank my lucky stars to be living here today
'Cause the flag still stands for freedom and they can't take that away
There are fewer places on this planet where you have the opportunity to fail but keep trying until you succeed. And if you don't know that, then read the story of Abraham Lincoln.
There are times when I watch these press conferences – forget the political affiliation because it's really inconsequential for this context – and listen to how efforts are being coordinated, how all of our profit and non-profit organizations are doing their part to help and then segue to hear individual stories where youths are putting fund raisers together or a hardware store owner received his shipment of masks and dispersed them to those who really needed them or when some anonymous diner left a huge tip at a restaurant to help the working staff.
Then I think of how we as citizens have just done it. We’re staying home. We’ve made the adjustment. We did the right thing.
We miss sports. On Sunday, we probably would have known if Baylor’s men’s basketball team was punching its ticket to the Final Four in Atlanta. On Monday or Tuesday, we would have probably known if Baylor’s women’s basketball team was punching its ticket to the Final Four in New Orleans.
Alas, we are where we’re at and we keep going.
Then you see all of Baylor’s athletic facilities lit up Sunday evening in Green as a symbol of faith, hope and unity.
I come away with the thought: How lucky we are to be here.
As I wrote two weeks ago, these circumstances don’t build character, they reveal it.
And how selfish are we to possibly respond negatively when asked to sacrifice six or seven weeks (hopefully not more) of our lives in an attempt to preserve the greater good.
Growing up a son of parents, who went through pretty much hell between the 1930s and mid-1940s and the sacrifices they had to make, I would hope this period gives me even more appreciation for what they endured and for a much longer period of time.
My dad Vincent went into World War II and was in a vulnerable position as a tail gunner in B-25s and B-29s. One right bullet from a Japanese Zero and he was gone. My mother’s father cut hair in Chaska, MN. He had eight kids to support and found a way to be resourceful to keep his family going.
In short, as distressing as all of this is, walking a mile in another person’s shoes provides no greater perspective.
It could be worse. We could be in a nation where its resources are limited, its health experts can’t minister to its people properly and the government is in no position to lead.
As I write this passage, I found the irony. Two weeks ago, I mentioned the story of Jesus spending 40 days in the desert fasting and praying before he fended off temptations from Satan. I called this our 40 days.
Then comes the announcement that we’re in this through the end of April. Do the math. That’s 45 days. Interesting.
****
In his later years and in my early years as a father, my dad would occasionally send me some inspirational literature. The famous, rocks, pebbles and sand metaphor was one of those. It’s a good time for all of us to read this again.
A philosophy professor once stood up before his class with a large empty mayonnaise jar. He filled the jar to the top with large rocks and asked his students if the jar was full.
The students said that yes, the jar was indeed full.
He then added small pebbles to the jar, and gave the jar a bit of a shake so the pebbles could disperse themselves among the larger rocks. Then he asked again, “Is the jar full now?”
The students agreed that the jar was still full.
The professor then poured sand into the jar to fill up any remaining empty space. The students then agreed that the jar was completely full.
The professor went on to explain that the jar represents everything that is in one's life, which we'll explain in the next section…
The rocks are equivalent to the most important projects and things you have going on, such as spending time with your family and your health. This means that if the pebbles and the sand were lost, the jar would still be full and your life would still have meaning.
The pebbles represent the things in your life that matter, but that you could live without. The pebbles are certainly things that give your life meaning (such as your job, house, hobbies and friendships), but they are not critical for you to have a meaningful life. These things often come and go, and are not permanent or essential to your overall well-being.
Finally, the sand represents the remaining filler things in your life, and material possessions. This could be small things such as watching TV, browsing through your favorite social media site, or running errands. These things don't mean much to your life as a whole, and are likely only done to waste time or get small tasks accomplished.
So what's the big lesson with the rock, pebbles, and sand in a jar story?
The metaphor here is that if you start with putting sand into the jar, you will not have room for rocks or pebbles. This holds true with the things you let into your life. If you spend all of your time on the small and insignificant things, you will run out of room for the things that are actually important.
Let’s make it a great week. There is no added charge for saying, “I love you!”
Ok, so maybe that point is under debate. Maybe those of you who want to find another figure or group to debate with the RJB over this proclamation can do so. Maybe you simply don’t care.
A Grammy award winner, Cross is also a Texan. The native of San Antonio came on to the scene in the late 1970s and won Grammys for Sailing and Arthur’s Theme.
By now, the RJB has taken you through everywhere. There have been some hard rock presentations, a little bit of rap, musical scores and classics.
Two weeks ago, the RJB took you through the reggae with the late Bob Marley with inspiration. Last week, we stood down for Victor Obi’s announcement.
This week, we focus on one of Cross’ hits, which also brings some inspiration. Artists are artists because they can tap into that emotion.
****
On Sunday, we all exhaled when President Trump announced that the national mitigation guidelines to combat COVID-19 would remain in place until April 30.
But I will say that unlike the initial 15-day jolt we were given on March 16 and the confusion and anxiety that soon followed, this announcement was probably met with a little more frustration than shock.
However, I think we knew this was coming. Maybe going through the end of April is longer than we thought.
We take solace in the fact that maybe these are working. There was the stat that had the United States just let the virus run its course and not done anything, the potential of 2.2 million deaths would have been the result. Because of what we’re doing, we’re hopefully reducing this unknown number to some significance.
Then you were just told you were going to have to celebrate Easter like you have never done in your life. But if you do it from the safety of wherever you live and not at a hospital wrought with anxiety and sorrow for a loved one or friend battling this virus, then you’ve done well.
We’ve all had some introspection from a financial standpoint and worried about everything that is involved in it. I worry about it every day. We’re all human. How can we not?
In that mental struggle, I would like to think that day by day that my appreciation for my family and my health becomes more and more valued.
For instance, my family did a movie night on Saturday. We had some finger foods, called up a comedy and laughed for two hours.
On Thursday, my daughters were watching the movie Invincible with Mark Wahlburg, a sports movie I had actually never seen. But the Razorback called me into her room with the Crimson Tide and we just watched it.
They asked me a lot of questions about the 1970s. That’s when I was a kid. They laughed when I would groan at how awful that decade was in terms of style of clothing, style of cars, style of hair and everything else that was connected to those 10 brutal years.
It would beg my question of the 1970s: What were they thinking?
We would not have had this opportunity if it was a normal school year. But I can’t complain seeing them every day. Mrs. Razorback and I are taking more walks together. Where we’ve lost in certain areas, we’ve gained in others.
And then I keep thinking to the opening lines of Lee Greenwood’s Proud to be American where it starts:
If tomorrow all the things were gone I'd worked for all my life
And I had to start again with just my children and my wife
I'd thank my lucky stars to be living here today
'Cause the flag still stands for freedom and they can't take that away
There are fewer places on this planet where you have the opportunity to fail but keep trying until you succeed. And if you don't know that, then read the story of Abraham Lincoln.
There are times when I watch these press conferences – forget the political affiliation because it's really inconsequential for this context – and listen to how efforts are being coordinated, how all of our profit and non-profit organizations are doing their part to help and then segue to hear individual stories where youths are putting fund raisers together or a hardware store owner received his shipment of masks and dispersed them to those who really needed them or when some anonymous diner left a huge tip at a restaurant to help the working staff.
Then I think of how we as citizens have just done it. We’re staying home. We’ve made the adjustment. We did the right thing.
We miss sports. On Sunday, we probably would have known if Baylor’s men’s basketball team was punching its ticket to the Final Four in Atlanta. On Monday or Tuesday, we would have probably known if Baylor’s women’s basketball team was punching its ticket to the Final Four in New Orleans.
Alas, we are where we’re at and we keep going.
Then you see all of Baylor’s athletic facilities lit up Sunday evening in Green as a symbol of faith, hope and unity.
I come away with the thought: How lucky we are to be here.
As I wrote two weeks ago, these circumstances don’t build character, they reveal it.
And how selfish are we to possibly respond negatively when asked to sacrifice six or seven weeks (hopefully not more) of our lives in an attempt to preserve the greater good.
Growing up a son of parents, who went through pretty much hell between the 1930s and mid-1940s and the sacrifices they had to make, I would hope this period gives me even more appreciation for what they endured and for a much longer period of time.
My dad Vincent went into World War II and was in a vulnerable position as a tail gunner in B-25s and B-29s. One right bullet from a Japanese Zero and he was gone. My mother’s father cut hair in Chaska, MN. He had eight kids to support and found a way to be resourceful to keep his family going.
In short, as distressing as all of this is, walking a mile in another person’s shoes provides no greater perspective.
It could be worse. We could be in a nation where its resources are limited, its health experts can’t minister to its people properly and the government is in no position to lead.
As I write this passage, I found the irony. Two weeks ago, I mentioned the story of Jesus spending 40 days in the desert fasting and praying before he fended off temptations from Satan. I called this our 40 days.
Then comes the announcement that we’re in this through the end of April. Do the math. That’s 45 days. Interesting.
****
In his later years and in my early years as a father, my dad would occasionally send me some inspirational literature. The famous, rocks, pebbles and sand metaphor was one of those. It’s a good time for all of us to read this again.
A philosophy professor once stood up before his class with a large empty mayonnaise jar. He filled the jar to the top with large rocks and asked his students if the jar was full.
The students said that yes, the jar was indeed full.
He then added small pebbles to the jar, and gave the jar a bit of a shake so the pebbles could disperse themselves among the larger rocks. Then he asked again, “Is the jar full now?”
The students agreed that the jar was still full.
The professor then poured sand into the jar to fill up any remaining empty space. The students then agreed that the jar was completely full.
The professor went on to explain that the jar represents everything that is in one's life, which we'll explain in the next section…
The rocks are equivalent to the most important projects and things you have going on, such as spending time with your family and your health. This means that if the pebbles and the sand were lost, the jar would still be full and your life would still have meaning.
The pebbles represent the things in your life that matter, but that you could live without. The pebbles are certainly things that give your life meaning (such as your job, house, hobbies and friendships), but they are not critical for you to have a meaningful life. These things often come and go, and are not permanent or essential to your overall well-being.
Finally, the sand represents the remaining filler things in your life, and material possessions. This could be small things such as watching TV, browsing through your favorite social media site, or running errands. These things don't mean much to your life as a whole, and are likely only done to waste time or get small tasks accomplished.
So what's the big lesson with the rock, pebbles, and sand in a jar story?
The metaphor here is that if you start with putting sand into the jar, you will not have room for rocks or pebbles. This holds true with the things you let into your life. If you spend all of your time on the small and insignificant things, you will run out of room for the things that are actually important.
Let’s make it a great week. There is no added charge for saying, “I love you!”
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