Whitney dies. And life goes on…

The year was 1987. I was nearing the end of my collegiate career in Norman, Ok. My best friend, Peggy Jean Lee, was on her way to visit me. My sole means of transportation, other than my feet, was a Yamaha Riva 180 scooter. This was fine for getting me to and from classes. Not so fine for showing a pretty girl around town. So I rented a car. It was a 1980-something Mercury Sable (aka Ford Taurus).

There are many great memories of the 8 days that we spent together. There has to be, but that’s the long version of our love story.  We went from good friends to best friends to (18 months later) an engaged couple. That Mercury Sable took us all over town. Our first date was a Cajun dinner followed by “Good Morning Vietnam.” Our last date on that visit was a Po’ Folks dinner and “Summer Rental.” In hindsight, some might say the week went downhill.

Some might be very wrong, but that’s another story. The story here is Whitney Houston. With the release of her second album was the first single, the first Whitney mega-hit, “I want to dance with somebody.” Peggy and I could not get in to that Mercury Sable rent-a-car, turn on the ignition and crank up the AC before we’d hear that song coming out the rear speakers. You think I’m exaggerating, but that’s the gospel truth. EVERY time we’d get in the car we’d hear that song playing. It got the point where we decided that was our “unofficial” song.

Fast forward to the fall of 1989 – I married the girl of my dreams. Our first dance was “How Sweet it Is (to be loved by you). The JT version. But we still joke about how our other song is Whitney’s “I Want to Dance with Somebody.” It’s a simple song with an overplayed melody. And to this day it is the song that reminds me of a lazy, hot summer in Norman, OK. A summer when I maxed out my credit card to date a girl that stole my heart. A girl that, with much courting, eventually chose me. And on that day my life changed. Forever.

Nearly 25 years later I remember Whitney on the day she day died.  On this day, I still want to dance with somebody, the somebody that loves me. Good thing I married her.

The Greatest American That Ever Lived?

As I write this, the rest of America is preparing for the epitome of sports championships – the Super Bowl. Relative to football, I was raised with Gayle Sayers, Bobby Douglass, Terry Bradshaw, Jack Lambert, and the meanest SOB I’ve ever personally met, Dick Butkus. All the above were some pretty tough dudes. I love football, and because I don’t give a crud about the Pats or the Giants, I’m dead focused on an awesome pre-game menu and great commercials. Side note - Kansas City, for those not old enough to remember, actually faired pretty well in the early days of the Super Bowl (which was so named by the founder and original owner of the Kansas City Chiefs).

Despite all of the hysteria, I’m going to jump into the prime week of football to talk about baseball. I’ll even go so far to confess that I have actually mourned the loss of two people I do not personally know.  Both are known for baseball.

One was Harry Caray. Harry Caray raised me on what was the passion of my youth. When he died, I felt that part of my youth died with him. I grew up a Chicago Cubs fan. And Harry defined the Cubbies in the 1980s. I still am a Cub fan to a great extent. I love the old Cubbies, especially the great Ernie Banks. At the time, he was the epitome of perseverance.

Twenty years later I learned of a better role model for perseverance, who also happens to be a former teammate of Banks. He is also also a role model for character, charisma, talent, and generosity. He is the great Buck O’Neil. If you live (or recently lived) in KC, I don’t need to explain. If you haven’t lived in KC, I won’t bother. Buck defies explanation. In short, I’m not sure a finer human being ever lived. I do not say that lightly.

I can’t think of a single individual who has done more for the sport of baseball than Buck O’Neil. I might even go so far to state that if there is a better example (other than the great Dr. King) that lived through the racial oppression with a better attitude; I have not heard his name. My only regret is that my wife actually met him, and I have not. If I can add nothing else to this, it’s that Buck had the good sense to flirt with the pretty girl that chose me. I wish I were on the elevator with Peggy and Buck that day, I’d shake his hand and say “thank you.” Nothing else. And I’m pretty sure he’d understand, and say “Don’t thank me. I’m just an average guy doing what I love.”

So on a fall day in 2006, I took a day off work to serve a KC charity. That same day they buried the great Buck O’Neil.  Driving home that day I remember that that Kansas City lost a true treasure. And a tear fell on my cheek. Partly because the rest of the world may never know or see a better, living definition of perseverance, class, and character. Mostly because the most of the world will never fully realize the greatness in a man that resisted the labels we tried to bestow on him . His name is John Jordan "Buck" O'Neil. If that’s the first time you’ve heard his name, the tragedy continues.

http://youtu.be/hBB9kItCsaI