Real Men

Posted on June 15, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

 

Photo by Doyin Richards

Photo by Doyin Richards

Leonard Lomell was the Brooklyn orphan who would save Europe.  Lomell enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1942 as an infantryman.  While serving with the 76th Infantry Division, he volunteered for the Rangers program.  This decision changed WWII.  On June 6, 1944, before 9am, Staff Sgt. Leonard Lomell, acting Commander of D Company, 2nd Ranger Battalion, disembarked with 225 of his Rangers and assaulted Point Du Hoc, a prominent escarpment between Omaha and Utah beaches at Normandy, France.  Although wounded by German machine gun fire while wading ashore from his landing craft, Staff Sgt Lomell and 11 of his men made it to the top of the cliffs and disabled 5 long-range 155mm guns and multiple fortified machine gun nests.  These actions saved the lives of thousands of his comrades and ensured the success of the amphibious portion of the D-Day invasion.

Frank Hall was an assistant football coach at Chardon High School in 2012.  His seemingly menial job, when not coaching football or supervising weight training, was to monitor study halls and lunch in the school cafeteria.  On February 27, 2012, he also became the guy who would save the lives of countless students and faculty by challenging and chasing an active shooter through the halls of, and ultimately out of, Chardon High School.

Chief Master Sergeant John Gebhardt was the Superintendant of the 22nd Wing Medical Group at McConnell Air Force Base in Kansas.  I saw a photo of him taken while on duty at Balad Air Base in Iraq.  A little Iraqi girl had been shot multiple times and had undergone lifesaving surgery.  Sgt. Gebhardt’s staff nurses couldn’t get the little girl to rest: she just cried and moaned.  The only person who could calm her down was Sgt. Gebhardt.  This exhausted man was not too tired to give more.  In the photo, the small, badly injured child lay sleeping on the soldier’s chest.  I saw a man who offered his body as a refuge from war and pain.

Then there was this ordinary man who was behaving in an extraordinary way along the Riverwalk in New Castle the other day.  I saw him riding a too-small bike with his six children following behind on their bikes as they all zipped in and out of the fountains and rocks.  Their laughter was music to me and their smiles brightened an already beautiful day.  The expressions on the children’s faces made it clear who their hero was that day.  There was this man just being brave enough to be a dad and simultaneously giving his children a great day.

All of these men probably looked in the mirror and occasionally envisioned who they could become.  Maybe they ran through scenarios in their heads; pre-planning the kind of man they would like to be when the time came to “get real”.  All of us guys do that.  Maybe they had great mentors.  Maybe it was in their upbringing.  Maybe it’s found in their faith in God.  I think it’s all the above.  Maya Angelou said “One isn’t necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential.  Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency.  We can’t be kind, true, merciful, generous or honest.”  And may I add “Real”.

© 2014 Curt Savage Media                                                                        notwordsalone.wordpress.com

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Secret Hideouts

Posted on June 8, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

Cardboard CastleDid you ever have a secret hideout when you were a kid?  Maybe a tree-fort or a clubhouse built from old produce crates and pallets?  When I lived in apartments in LA, we had to use abandoned warehouses or old semi trailers for hideouts.  Some of my school friends from the wealthier side of town had custom built clubhouses that resembled little efficiency apartments complete with bathrooms and refrigerators!  We liked hanging out with them!

I remember secret hideouts changed as I grew older.  When I was five, my hideaway was simply a collection of large cardboard boxes taped together and painted with warnings to “Keep Out!” and “No Girls Allowed!”  These were important advertisements.  If anyone dared look in my bunker and saw me, then my whereabouts would no longer be a secret.  If a girl happened to wander into my “man cave”, that would be disastrous!  That would mean the whole place was contaminated with cooties and the boxes might as well be hauled out and burned!

When I was 10 or 12, clubhouses became a bit more elaborate.  They were built from wood and had working doors and windows.  Tools had to be purloined from unguarded toolboxes.  We brought ice chests stocked with a day’s worth of food and sometimes even ran several extension cords from the nearest outlet so our place could have electricity – you know – for the record players.  Rules for admittance were still pretty much the same – no adults and no girls; we did make a few exceptions though.  We started realizing some of the neighborhood girls were pretty cool.  They could get tools or building materials we needed and sometimes they brought stuff for us to eat.  These attributes guaranteed life membership!  They also had some great records.

The whole point of secret hideouts had been to get away from adults and girls so we could be wild boys in wild and undiscovered places all by ourselves.  A day spent in such a state felt like an entire week on the calendar.  After an entire summer spent hanging out in our clubhouses, there was a sense we had somehow completed a rite of passage; a sense that beards might suddenly pop out on our faces at any moment.  I have no idea how a bunch of “wild” boys grew into teenagers who preferred thinking about cars and teenage girls over building clubhouses.  We sat on lawn chairs in our parents garages – our new “hideouts” – and pondered those things.

Some of us married those girls who were once told to “keep out” and we even had a few kids.  Tell me – while watching your kids build their own secret hideouts, do you sometimes catch yourself thinking “I wish there was still a place where I could go and hideout; a place where I could have privacy and peace.”  I have good news for you.  There IS still such a place!  It’s called the bathroom, and it’s all yours until any other member of the family wakes up.  So, for those few precious moments of your day, turn back into a “wild boy” and enjoy your MAD magazine in your “secret hideout”.

© 2014 Curt Savage Media

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To the Sacrifice

Posted on May 26, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

Mourning Flag

Oh the pretty flowers with patriotic ribbons entwined,

Watered with the tears of those surviving comrades and loved ones left behind,

Adorning the graves of our fallen heroes in an effort to remind,

Passers-by without cognizant respect who would otherwise be blind,

To the sacrifice.

 

Oh bright remembrance, dark mourning and brilliant reflection,

Duty, honor, respect and gratitude call us to assemble in response,

To the legacy of freedom given by those who answered the call to action,

Next generations must be taught why we decorate the graves and stand in dedication,

To the sacrifice.

 

Curt Savage Media – Not Words Alone – Memorial Day 2014

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Seeing Through “The Wall”

Posted on May 25, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

Photo by Elvert Barnes PhotographyI stood next to veterans, friends and families – their faces showing pride and pain.  Their comrades and loved ones graduated from high school and shipped out; some bound for glory, and some never to return again.  Instead of a victor’s parade, the survivors came home and were “welcomed” by an unexpected nightmare trio of ignorance, hate and isolation.

The line shuffled forward.  My mind raced with unexpected emotions.  Why did I so deeply care? I wasn’t even there.  Too young to understand the context, I scanned the names of the mortal cost – at least one fatality for every ten of the participants in the Exercise in Innocence Lost.  Why should I care? I wasn’t even there.  Not even born at its beginning – only 14 at its “end”.  But, a few years older and Vietnam is exactly where I might have been.  The significance of my escape chilled my bones.  Gratitude for my deliverance welled up in my eyes.

How could I express my condolence?  How could I fight indifference?  Artists and angels knew these questions would come when angry hearts and pointing fingers were replaced with broken hearts and healing embraces.  Bands of brothers and sisters stood hand in hand and arm in arm asking “Who?” and “Why?”  Now a tall, long, shining black slab stood before us as a remembrance of those souls who fought in Southeast Asia against an enemy we still don’t fully understand to protect a people who, for many, now ironically call America their home.

These soldiers swore on sacred oath to serve with honor and pride, and to the end, by that oath, they fought and died.  Their faithful commitment was echoed, like the bugles playing taps in the distance, in the hearts and on the tear stained faces of surviving friends and family.  As they stood thinking of how their loved ones had died serving a government that had lied, we all struggled to make sense of the senseless.  I watched as some laid dog tags, stuffed teddy bears and flowers at the base of the wall.  Others placed their fingers on the wall and traced the engraved names over and over again.  A few placed paper over names and made graphite tracings to take home with them.

Looking at the wall and seeing the reflections of the surviving brothers and sisters, I felt like I could almost see through to the other side.  Was that a reflection of my hands on the wall, or their hands touching mine?  If I said “Thank You” or “I’m sorry”, could they hear me.  Would that be enough?  I felt like so much more should be said.  I had so many questions.  We may never understand why they had to go to Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos at all, but now I know why I was there that day, and I understand what I share with those who stood with me, and with those whose names are on “The Wall”.

© 2014 Curt Savage Media

notwordsalone.wordpress.com

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The Creator and the Creation

Posted on May 23, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

Water Jug With WatermarkHave you ever painted a picture? I’m always amazed at how long the process takes to complete. When I begin a painting, I start with a blank canvas that requires a primer preparation before any color can be applied. I then begin applying multiple layers of paint – some transparent and some opaque. I forcefully press stiff brushes and lightly feather edges with delicate “brights”.   I apply heavy paint with my pallet knife, and sometimes I use that knife to scrape away what doesn’t belong on the canvas. At the end of the work, I apply a preserving varnish and place my signature on the work.

The Creator of the universe is leaning toward you, His creation, watching, listening to your heart and waiting for your questions; the questions He already knows because He made you. He knew you before He formed you. You are God’s masterpiece in progress, and He is faithful to complete what He has begun. He provides those He loves with all they need, all the characteristics, the knowledge, the abilities and the experiences to do His will. We are His canvas, and His work on that canvas is the essence of the abundant life.

Just because you haven’t done something, or you’re not at some place, doesn’t mean you will never accomplish that desire or go to that place. The same is true if you are involved in, or experiencing something in a certain place. You certainly will not continue to do that or experience that in the exact same way in that exact place forever. As long as we are alive, we are in a constant state of change. God did not create us as static monuments of His creativity. God created us to freely interact with Him and His creation as growing and changing creations in that creation. Unlike the clay on a sculptor’s pedestal, we can hear our creator, and we can speak with Him. If there is something you desire, some goal you’re striving for, some place you’re feeling called to, a place you need freed from or a situation you need delivered from, ask God for wisdom and understanding to guide you.

Sometimes we can’t understand why the paint is being scraped off our canvas or why our clay is being punched down just when we thought we were looking pretty good. Sometimes we might even have to be set aside until we’re ready to be worked on again. Maybe you’re not feeling like your life is very abundant right now. No one is promised a trouble-free and disease-free life. Neither are we promised vast wealth or fabulous possessions – unless that’s what we need for the accomplishment of God’s will to His glory and praise. What God promises is this: He is faithful and He will never leave you or forsake you. Even now, God’s hands are upon the clay of your existence and He is in the very clay itself. The Master Potter knows the type of vessel you are to become. All you need to do is trust Him and allow Him to work with you.

© 2014 Curt Savage Media

notwordsalone.wordpress.com

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Goalies and Fairies

Posted on May 21, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

Are you getting closer to your dreams after reading last week’s column? My “beautiful dreamer” friends are already there. They live ethereal, Bohemian lives that keep them above the fray and into their arts. I must admit, I envy them just a little. I’ve talked with others who are definitely beginning to think about the possibility of having and pursuing dreams. Then there are those who are still baffled about all this energy and time wasted on something that doesn’t exist “on paper”.

I don’t usually write a “follow-up” to an article. I felt like this subject might warrant an exception. I understand for some, dreams compare with that memory from when they were five – the diving board hovering high above the big, deep scary swimming pool. For others, dreams are what they had before the big goals attached to those dreams crashed to the ground in flames. But dreams don’t have to be evaluated through the lenses of fear or failure. The huge ones don’t have to be avoided just because of their vast scope. Sainted Pope John XXIII’s quote bears repeating “Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.” Anyone remember the Frank Sinatra song “High Hopes”?

Yeah, working on a dream can be tough work – just ask Bruce Springsteen. But, if you never work on it, you’ll never achieve it. If you never move toward your dream, you won’t get any closer than you are right now. It’s like getting in your car, sitting there for a few minutes and then getting back out, frustrated that you didn’t arrive at your desired destination. A lot of us are watching the NHL playoffs right now. I’m amazed by the tenacity and focus of the goalies. In a perfect four periods, these guys block an average of 30 shots with no goals. The losing goalie can be just one less than “perfect”. During practice, goalies are “attacked” by a couple dozen guys firing literally hundreds of shots on goal over several hours. What’s the pay-off for this commitment? Glory in victory – or they can be mocked by fans and the press if they allow one goal at the wrong moment. Do they quit? No. This is who they are – it’s their dream.

Sometimes, trying to explain our dreams is like a fairy trying to explain to a mushroom what it’s like to be a fairy. My daughter & I like to watch Disney’s “Tinker Bell” movie. Tinker Bell has a talent for making and fixing things. It’s understood that ‘Tinker Fairies” stay at Pixie Hollow on the island of Never Land and work in the shop. However, Tinker Bell, or “Tink” as her friends call her, learns that the fairies with nature-talents get to go to the mainland and usher in the seasons. Thus begins her dream of going to the mainland. The other fairies don’t understand Tink, and even resent her dreams and talents. However, eventually Tink’s dream is fulfilled and she is allowed to go to the mainland all because she persisted in dreaming and practicing her talent….so cue the Aerosmith song “Dream On” and dream until your dreams come true!

© 2014 Curt Savage Media

notwordsalone.wordpress.com

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Getting Closer

Posted on May 20, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

Naomi Running on BoardwalkI frequently tell my kids “Whatever you spend the most time doing, that’s what you’ll be the best at. Life rewards self-discipline.” I quote Jerry Rice of the San Francisco 49ers who said “Today, I will do what others won’t, so tomorrow I can accomplish what others can’t”. The kids are probably tired of hearing it. What about us adults; what are we the best at? The sociological model most of us were raised in (either by parents or TV) has taught us to want something and to work to get it. We spend most of our time doing that, and we’re good at it. That’s productive and fine, but what if we were built, wired, created to do or be more? What if, inside of us, we have dreams of who we would like to become or of what we would like to accomplish?

Do you have a dream? Are you getting closer to realizing that dream? Do I? Am I? Absolutely! I’m just sitting here listening to The Talking Heads song “Road to Nowhere”. In the official video, David Byrne is running much of the time, but not really going anywhere while all sorts of things are happening around him. Life can be like that. We work long hours to fund our lives, leaving little time or energy to get closer to our dreams. We might like our jobs. Most of the bills get paid. We might even have some pretty cool stuff. However, for many, the dreams are still there, muted, without shape, just beyond one’s each.

People ask why I bother pursuing my dream of working in the arts with my writing, music, photography, etc., as if I’m somehow being foolish. My response? Katherine Paterson, author of “The Invisible Child” is quoted as saying “A dream without a plan is just a wish”. My plan is to find my next profession by reuniting with what I was created to do, and loved doing, before I “grew up” and got “a job”.

If you’re asking “Why worry about dreams?” you might not have goals to accomplish or dreams to fulfill, and that’s OK – even normal for many people. Most people just go to work. They don’t have a concept of what a “dream job” is. They regard dreams as distractions that call to them from the edges of their current realities. Some people can ignore those dreams calling to them; others cannot. Joe Montana said “Winners, I am convinced, imagine their dreams first. They want it with all their heart and expect it to come true. There is. I believe, no other way to live.” For those of you who are having trouble ignoring the call of your dreams, welcome to the club; this article’s for you.

Sainted Pope John XXIII said “Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.” Ask God to help you hear and see the dreams He gave you, and then move in the direction from which those dreams are calling. As they get louder and begin to take shape, you’ll know you’re getting closer.

© 2014 Curt Savage Media

notwordsalone.wordpress.com

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The Mom Tattoo

Posted on May 11, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

mom_tattoo

(This article is from 2013, before I had my WordPress blog, so I wanted to share it again on this Mother’s Day)

Don’t panic Mom. I didn’t literally get a tattoo. Your influence on my life is like a tattoo on my heart. I am who I am, in large part, thanks to you. You gave me my appreciation for the small joys that others often overlook. My mannerisms, opinions and blend of optimism plus common sense realism came from you. My flexibility and ability to remain fairly calm when things get a little crazy are things I learned from you. I picked-up your faith that helps me believe everything will be all right, even when things don’t look all right. I also managed to absorb some of your stubborn determination.

Our moms are our cheerleaders. Sometimes, they are our ONLY cheerleaders, even when there doesn’t seem to be a lot to cheer about. They just don’t seem to be willing or able to stop believing in us, even when we stop believing in ourselves. Wait….I hear a Journey song.

Our moms were also our first bosses and bankers. Allowances were paid for chores done grudgingly and usually with much arguing. Later, moms went without things they really wanted so we could have money for a movie or band instrument rental. Moms passed up jewelry they wanted so we could have our class rings. I remember my mom saving loose change in jars so money would be there for special things.

Our moms teach us a lot of things. Yes – potty training is high on that list. Good thing, huh? What about less common things? When I was 8 years old, our car broke down in the middle of the desert. I watched my mom remove her panty hose and use them to fashion a make-shift fan belt. The CHP officer who found us limping toward the next town was impressed with her resourcefulness. My mom taught me to love music. She also taught me how to be compassionate and to care about the needs of others – that includes protecting others. She taught me how to shoot a rifle and a bow, and how to fish. I met another mom who was a widow. Although not a hunter herself, she went with her son and sat through a hunter safety course so she could take him hunting – something her husband had always wanted to do once their son was old enough.

I’m far enough down the road now that I can finally see another quality about my mom. She was right. God knows I fought against her wisdom too many times to count, only to end up in the predicament she was trying to save me from. Don’t worry Mom. I passed that trait down to my children. It’s your turn to laugh now! Some of us don’t have our moms with us anymore. They’re cheerleading from Heaven. If you still have your mom here with you, don’t take that gift for granted. Love them while you can. The time that passed too slowly when we were younger passes much too quickly now that we’re older. Mom was right about that too. By the way, I love the “tattoo”. Thanks Mom!

© 2013 Curt Savage Media

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What Season Are We In Anyway?

Posted on May 9, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

Bubbles in the GardenWelcome to “Mayprilaryjucember” – the 13th month on the gardener’s calendar. The tender green shoots appear from under their winter cover, beckoning to us. They lure us; calling us into the still sleeping gardens. We put on our coats. No. We put on our sweaters. Uh – maybe T-shirts and shorts. No. We put on our coats, and succumb to the temptation to pull the leafy quilts off our outdoor beds. We try to plant things that will surely freeze to death if the nighttime temperatures drop below 38 degrees, and then they will bake the very next day as the afternoon temps reach a tropical 85 Fahrenheit. I’ve heard the saying “Everything in its season” – but exactly WHAT season are we in?

Donovan’s on the radio. Maybe it’s the “Season of the Witch” – you know – the witch from C.S. Lewis’ “Chronicles of Narnia” who causes it to be “always winter, but never Christmas”? Shiny Toy Guns are singing “Season of Love”, but I think that was in February. The Zombies are probably up next with ‘Time of the Season”. What time? Hopefully, the time to “Turn, Turn, Turn”. Of course, this is all for the Byrds. As soon as the 90 degree days of August come, I’ll be whining and waiting for the coolness of autumn again. But, no use getting ahead of myself; everything in its season.

That’s really the crux of it. This life urges us to push “the pedal to the metal”. We’re always hurtling toward what’s next. The merry-go-round spins faster and faster until our view of the surrounding landscape becomes a blur. Some of this is completely beyond our control – just like this crazy winter that’s supposed to have passed. What we can accomplish is often limited by external circumstances,   or schedules that are not of our making. Patiently waiting for ideal timing can be very frustrating, but paying the price for doing something at the wrong time is far worse. Counter-cultural as this sounds, “slow and steady” still gets it done. “Everything” doesn’t get done, but all the “important” things get done in their seasons. Everything else can just wait.

So, I’ll step onto the back porch and look at the lumpy lawn with its bald spots. That’s OK; I’m raising a family, not golf course turf. The greenhouse didn’t get fixed this winter; maybe next year. That’s OK too. They sell really nice “cheater” tomato plants with little tomatoes already on them at this nursery right across the road from a really good ice cream stand. If the wind is just right, we can get the kite out of our Jeep and fly it in the parking lot while we enjoy our treats. When we get home, we can push aside all the piles of gardening books on the table, and post kite and ice cream pictures on our favorite social media sites on-line. We’ll probably just set the tomato pots up on the porch rails; that cuts weeding and they’re easier to water that way. This will give me extra time to sit on the steps, drinking lemonade and blowing bubbles with my daughter while we watch the world speed by.

© 2014 Curt Savage Media

notwordsalone.wordpress.com

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A Year In My Head

Posted on May 4, 2014 by curtsavagemedia

ThankYouIt’s hard to believe a year has passed since I started writing my “Not Words Alone Column”. I appreciate all of you who have faithfully been reading the stuff that comes out of my head each week. Some would compare spending a year “in my head” to spending a year at a three-ring-circus. I guess that’s a fair comparison. I have difficulty thinking of just one thing at a time because I always have several ideas going at the same time.

Maybe I have too many interests. I’ve been a musician, an artist in multiple media and a photographer for almost 40 years. I really enjoy being creative and coming up with ideas for just about anything. I also love to communicate those ideas to others. My desire to share those ideas and thoughts with others was my impetus to begin writing in the first place. I guess that’s not too many interests. And besides, being involved in those things has given me some great opportunities and introduced me to some excellent people.

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting many of you at some of the various events I’ve attended, or while just walking around town and crossing paths while running errands, grabbing a bite to eat or attending to some sort of business. Many of you have asked how I come up with ideas for articles, songs or works of art. You’ve probably noticed that some of our conversations have been reflected in the subject matter for some of these columns. That’s no accident. The people in my life become part of the story of my life, and thus, part of my art. You’ve become part of the stories, songs and images in my head. All the people, events and experiences in my life that have shaped me, apparently have also made me someone who looks at, and sees things very differently than most others. These articles, my songs, my paintings and drawings and my photographs are simply expressions of what I see in life.

In the 2001 movie “Kate & Leopold”, Stuart Besser (played by Live Schreiber) is a physicist and inventor who accidentally discovers a time portal on the Brooklyn Bridge. An accident lands Stuart in the hospital where he’s placed in the psych ward because he keeps going on about time travel. In a desperate attempt to be released, Stuart explains to a nurse “I’m no crazier than a dog that finds a rainbow. Dogs are colorblind – they don’t see color; just like we don’t see time. We can feel it passing, but we can’t see it; it’s just like a blur. I’m just a guy who saw a crack in time that no one else could see. I’m that dog who saw a rainbow, only none of the other dogs believed me.” It’s kind of like that with me.   I’m like that dog that can see a rainbow. As maddening as this personality trait must often be to others, I hope my artistic offerings make up for my ramblings, rabbit trails and distractions. I look forward to meeting many more of you as we begin another year of sharing the ideas bouncing around inside my head.

© 2014 Curt Savage Media

notwordsalone.wordpress.com

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