Bits and Pieces

 

Long, long ago in a city far, far away I was an older than average Resident Assistant at Southern Methodist University  in Dallas, Texas.  At the time I was struggling to come to grips with a very bad breakup with a young lady I cared very deeply about.  In my young, often idealistic way I could see us having some sort of future together, maybe not marriage but something long term.  She didn't see it that way and as I was making my way from her dorm room (she was an RA as well) after she broke the news to me that we were through I happened to find this poem posted on a resident's door;

 

Bits and Pieces

People.

People important to you,

People unimportant to you cross your life, touch it with love and move on.

There are people who leave you and you breathe a sigh of relief and wonder why you ever came into contact with them.

There are people who leave you, and you breathe a sigh of remorse and wonder why they had to go and leave such a gaping hole.

Children leave parents, friends leave friends. Acquaintances move on. People change homes.

People grow apart. Enemies hate and move on. Friends love and move on.

You think of the many people who have moved in and out of your hazy memory.

You look at those present and wonder.

I believe in God's master plan in our lives.
God moves people in and out of each other's lives, and each leaves a mark on the other. You find you are made up of bits and pieces of all who have ever touched your life.
You are more because of them, and would be less if they had not touched you.

Pray that you accept the bits and pieces in humility and wonder, and never question and never regret.

Bits and pieces, bits and pieces.

For some reason I decided to copy it down and I kept that copy for many years.  I think I finally threw away my copy as I moved and my wife Amy told me I should probably get rid of some of my old college detritus (I still have all my college notes from my English classes "just in case" - much to Amy's chagrin) since I probably didn't need it. 

At the time, I didn't know the author of the poem.  It wasn't until many years later that I descovered it was written by Lois Chaney and included in the book of poems "God is No Fool".  Although we can be his fools and make him laugh (I seem to do it on a weekly if not daily basis), he is not the type to wear motley and play the fool for us (can you tell I've been reading the Game of Thrones series?).

This past summer as I pedaled my way across America (and fried my brain in the process), I found myself ruminating on various aspects of my life to pass the time as I watched the miles roll by from my 3 1/2 foot perch.  What had led me to do what I'm doing now?  How had things aligned to meet my wife (without whom my cross country journey would never have been successful)?  How had things all worked in such a way that my three beautiful and special children could be born?  What were the influences in my life that brought me to the place I was now?  Who were those people that have shaped who I am?

And I would think of the poem from years ago and fragments would come back to me.  As those fragments shaped themselves in my head I would find myself thinking about "the many people who have moved in and out of [my] hazy memory."

First of course is my father.  He has always been my hero and always given me the example of what it means to do your duty, to do a job well and give it your all - not for glory and accolades but for the simple pride of knowing you did your very best.  I guess all Army brats think that of their fathers for all our fathers, especially those of us whose father's were "lifers" know what it means to have a parent who is career military.  Their deeds go unnoticed by the outside community and even we don't often know what they've done until years later.  My father was (and is) such a man.  In his indomitable silent way he is still my hero.

And as my thoughts continued to wander amongst the many bits and pieces of those who have shaped me, I would often think of teachers whose encouragment and example led me to my career as a performer and a teacher.  First on this list would be my fourth grade teacher Mr. Jean Archambeaux who taught me that it was okay to be very smart and that I needn't hide the fact that I was intelligent and creative.  My middle school teachers were all a blur to me as I kept moving from place to place but it was in high school at Ansbach American High school that the most important impressions were made on me by teachers and fellow students alike and as I rode I found myself thinking of those days in Southern Bavaria and the friendships (and not-so-friendships) that were formed there and how they created who I am today.

First the teachers, not as numerous but important in the impact on my young impressionable mind.  Oddly enough, I think Peter Micelli would be first and foremost on that list.  He welcomed me to his German I class and because of that I excelled (so much so that years later when I went to Switzerland on tour I was complimented on my German by a Swiss watchmaker - high praise indeed, methinks) in the language but most important, he invited me to try out for the wrestling team.  I was smaller and weaker than all the other kids and basically became the wrestling equivalent of a "tackling dummy" but I was hooked and my stubborn Irish make up refused to quit.  I became the butt of jokes and hazings but those only served to shape my personality even more (more on that later).

Next on that list would be Cooper Patterson and Emily VanSweden - the music and drama teachers.  Because of them I learned a love and appreciation for music and theatre that would become my life.  I wish I had been more talented as a musician but Mr. Patterson was patient with me and encouraging to the point that I joined almost every band possible.  He even offered to keep me at his house when my parents went back to the States so I could graduate with my class but my folks said no.  Ms. VanSweden kindled in me a love for English and acting as well as expressing myself that helped me find a place at C.E. Ellison High School when we moved to Texas.  Music and drama were the two clubs I gravitated to and because of what she kindled in me I found a niche there.  Today I carry a part of her in me constantly - especially when I'm teaching my own drama classes today.

And there were two others during my Ansbach days that shaped who I am, both coaches - one for football and one for wrestling.  Gary McCauley was a guidance counselor but a much loved (and sometimes feared) football coach.  He drove us mercilessly but he was fair and passionate and he taught me not only a love of the game but also how to work as part of a team.  I was small but I was strong and he gave me the chances to prove myself eventually putting me in enough quarters to earn my varsity letter.  The second of these two was Ron Materna who taught physical education but took over for Coach Micelli when he moved away.  Coach Materna was tough in the way that only a phys ed teacher of the 70's could be and it shaped me in more ways than I could ever thank him for.  His practices (and classes) taught me how to push myself physically farther than I thought I could - often to exhaustion.  But then I would dig deeper to try and find more.  I was as talented a wrestler as my fellows but my junior year I had developed such an incredible amount of stamina that I won matches because I could outlast my opponents.  The endurance and tolerance for pain that he instilled in me served me well as I became a professional dancer and as I was pushing myself in 115 degree heat over 123 grueling miles in the desert.  Without that core and that NEVER, EVER QUIT mentality he instilled in us I would never have made it.

About a year ago I became a member of a facebook group for Ansbach American High School and in the last few weeks a few of the members have begun scanning in and posting pictures of our yearbooks.  While I was riding cross country I did find myself thinking of many of my high school classmates from my Ansback days but in the last week I have begun thinking on them even more as I have been virtually flipping through the pages of these yearbooks.  Maybe its the fact that almost all of the classmates I would have graduated with are either approaching the half century mark or have just passed it but as I ponder my own impending passage of that dubious honor I find myself thinking more and more of them - the friends, the "frenemies" (in all honesty I can't say I ever hated anyone), the loves, the crushes, those who were (and still are to a very large extent) a part of my life and who shaped who I have become.

So where to begin?  I think I'll take the bitter pill first and start with the "frenemies".  Now don't get me wrong, looking over my life I can't honestly say there is anyone that I have ever really HATED!  I've disliked people intensely a few times but I've never hated them.  But these guys were ones that teased me rather mercilessly and considering the fact that I was 4'6" as a freshman and couldn't hit 100 pounds if I was wet I guess I can't totally blame them - I WAS and easy (if somewhat fast and elusive) target.  Guys like Richard Webb, Bud and James Pettit, Chester Sykes, Steve Longland, Richard Ahearn and pretty much everyone on the basketball team my freshman year.  As a freshman (i.e., "mat back") wrestler they were like the leaders of my initiation into the sport.  But as much as they tormented me they also pushed me to be better.  They made me earn their acceptance of me and it took all season but at the end I think I gained a bit.  They taught me perseverance and the importance of not taking no for an answer.  They taught me to push through it no matter what and made me a better athlete because of it.  Qualities I sorely needed this summer when I was pedaling through the desert for 123 miles in 115 degree heat.

I guess following close on their heels would be those athletes whose abilities I admired and strove to emulate.  Once again, I can list Richard Ahearn on that list along with Freddie Jones, George Webb, Merle Rogers, Tony Washington, Rainer Hoedl (he was a beast!), Mike Chairat, George Franciscus and Brett Hardin.  They were such well rounded athletes that I strove to be like them and in some cases competed with them for spots on teams.  Wanting to be like (or better) than them drove me to get up in the morning and run three to five miles a day, even in the snow. I figured if I could create great endurance I might be able to be as good as them, I could be the kind of athlete they were.  By the end of my junior year I think I succeeded somewhat, although I would never reach the heights some of my heroes had attained, they at least showed me the way to push myself - again, a quality I sorely needed this past summer!

Then there was another group of guys who really, really formed so much of what I am today.  Guys like Brett Hardin, Scott (Tiny) Hoyt, Tony Washington, and Jon Forester.  They weren't my best friends but they were definitley guy who accepted me for what I was and helped me get through a lot of my awkwardness.  By their acceptance of many of my quirks they showed me it was okay to be myself.  It was especially great when we moved to Ft. Hood and Tony was my next door neighbor (again) and Jon was there in town and he reconnected with my cousin Taeil and spent a lot of time at our house.

And then there were the bros!  Way before we heard about things like "bronies", "bromance", "bro code" and the various other "broliciousness" there was a group of guys who accepted me totally for who I was, short and slightly geeky - Ed Trevarrow, Mark Pariseau, Ralph Ellis, Vincent Swadis, and Jon Pongratz.  I have to say that it was mainly Ed and Mark who helped me form something that would truly become a core of who I am today for they inspired in me the love of cycling.  The time we spent digging through dumpsters for bike parts and then painstakingly crafting them into our own Frankebikes (remember the basement rooms full of parts?) created in me a love for bicycles.  However, it was actually riding these creations all over Southern Bavaria that became part of who I would be for the rest of my life.  The love of freedom the two wheeled contraptions gave us (not to mention the philosophical discussions that would ultimately ensue) gave me a core for what would become a life long passion and love affair - one that continues to this day.  I can't tell you how many times I thought of the Ansbach bikers as I traversed the country this summer.  And quite honestly, I would often think how much fun they would probably have if they were with me - and then I would realize they would.

And speaking of passion.  Okay, perhaps not "passion" but certain far off crushes.  As I have been perusing the old familiar yearbooks it really took me back how many there were.  I know almost none of them ever realized that the skinny, geeky kid they had in class, in clubs and on teams had any sort of feelings for them.  To be honest I was too scared to even ask them to dance at the ever popular dances we would hold at school.  But from afar I worshipped/crushed/adored so many of these girls.  Girls like Pam and Patty Krueger, Heather Renner, Angie and Lisa Sasser, Monique Pariseau (okay, I think she knew, much to my chagrin), Kathy Emmert, Nancy Hughes, Martha Valasquez, Tracy Cloud, Sonja Snyder, Robin Fortune (I know, you never knew), Nancy Mick, Debbie Rogers, Sylvia Johnson, Christy Cunningham (I think she knew), Becky Lewis, Sandie Hudson, Michelle Cleveland, and one that I could never, ever tell - Sherri Powell.  There were also others like Dia Harlow and Virginia Mckloskey that so influenced me that I can't even write it all down here but you ladies still reside in my heart, every single one of you.  Although I could never be in your league, you all were adored from afar and became part of who I am today and remind me of the wonderful times of Ansbach.

And so many memories of clubs, field trips, games, concerts, dances, practices, sledding, cycling, discoing, wandering, and just hanging out with all of you that truly taught me to be accepting of the world and that there was more to life than the little corner of Georgia I had left behind.  And even though I would move on to Texas and ultimately New York and across the world as a performer - you Ansbach Cougars of 1976-1980 made me who I am today and I thank you all.  I carry you with me as I go through life and I couldn't ask for better company.

I know I probably have forgotten some names in each of the categories and if you're reading this and I left you out I truly am sorry.  I blame it on the CRAFT disease I have contracted as I near the half century mark.  What's CRAFT you may ask?  Can't Remember A Freakin' Thing!  So I'm sorry to have forgotten but plesae know that you are still a part of me!

Oh, and for a little then and now action;

Chillin in 'Da Hood - Back in the Day with Bobby Longland, the Original Photo Bomber!

Chillin' with my Boy in the Hood! 

Stay well my friends and I'll be thinking about you on the road!