I Need Help! My review of “127 Hours”

12-17-10

MOVIE REVIEW:  “127 Hours”

Many of you who read this blog may have just risen on Saturday morning and are preparing to plan your day.  Before you head out the door to do that last minute Christmas shopping, sneak out to your deer blind, or run off to the grocery store, do me one favor:  Leave someone a note about where you’re going.  Oh, and bring your cell phone.

These would be two important things that Aron Ralston did not do on a late summer day in Utah in 2004.  As effectively portrayed in the recently released movie “127 Hours”, James Franco plays the role of the real-life Ralston, a self-proclaimed loner who never really needed anyone.  He set out on a Saturday morning with only a back pack and a day’s provision to generally meander around the rugged canyons of Utah.  He ignored an early morning call from his mother.  He forgot his swiss army knife.  And he didn’t carry a cell phone.

None of this would be necessarily unusual or dramatic, were it not for a nearly invisible crevasse that Ralston scales about 30 minutes into the movie. After checking his footing on a lazy-boy-sized boulder, Ralston skinnies into the crevasse, only to have the boulder give way, follow him down the crevasse, and pin his right arm in a death grip.  Unable to dislodge his arm, the movie’s final 75 minutes take us through the poignant, comical, and intense 127-hour period where Ralston reflects on his life, those whom he ignored, and those who loved him most.  Oh yeah, and Ralston has to decide whether or not to cut his own arm off to ultimately escape.  More on that in a moment.

Franco is a wonderful actor with a wiry grit.  He first caught my attention in the short-lived, but entirely epic TV series “Freaks and Geeks.”  Although “Freaks” lasted only one season on NBC before being cancelled, it launched the careers of Franco, Seth Rogen, Jason Schwartz and a myriad of other method actors who can still be seen in movies and spot TV roles today.  How cultic did Freaks become?  There was a tin-can version of the only season released several years ago, and it sold like hotcakes (this reviewer owns it, call me if you want to borrow it).

But back to our story.  This movie was entirely capable of being trite and morphing into the predictable “Oh-my-God-my-life-is –about-to-end” soliloquies that we’ve all seen dozens of times.  However, the artful direction by Danny Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire) keeps us interested through a series of flashbacks and hallucinations.  There is plenty of comedy relief, and also more than a few “Blair Witch” moments where Franco lights up the screen with a hand held video camera (yes, plenty of extreme close-ups of Franco’s nostrils and those rather odd chompers he possesses). 

Ultimately, however, this movie comes down to an intense decision of self-mutilation.  The viewer is violently forced to consider this question:  If you had been trapped for four days in a remote canyon, out of water and food, and had no hope of being found, would you cut your own arm off to escape death?  Or perhaps the more insightful question.  COULD you cut your own arm off?

(SPOILER ALERT:  I’m about to reveal the climatic conclusion, so cease reading if you care to the see the movie; please write a note to your loved ones that you are, in fact, now leaving for NCG Cinemas, so as to avoid any confusion with being lost in the mountains.)

Much has been made of this five minute portion of the movie, and well it should.  Franco rightly portrays the desperation of a man at his wit’s end.  For those who are squeamish, I dare say this is a great time to slip out to the concession stand and refill the popcorn tub.  Seeing the actual extrication is difficult, but not necessarily germane to the whole story.  For those who can bare to watch, you’ll see Franco on the lunatic fringe – a man who decided that he really would give his right arm to live.  The scene is worthy of the Oscar buzz it’s receiving.



The real-life Aron Ralston



Perhaps the most poignant scene, however, comes when Franco finally sees hikers after repelling down a mountain side as he searches for other humans.  A primal scream grabs the attention of a mother/father/child.  The cry for help neatly ties this movie in a bow.  “I need help,” cries Franco, in sharp contrast to the previous 75 minutes, which showed an otherwise self-reliant, invincible young man.  Franco’s Ralston has come to find that asking for help is not the way of weak human beings, but, in fact, one of the answers to discovering real joy.  Reliance on loved ones is celebrated.

Having just returned from a weekend in Sedona, AZ, this movie really resonated with me.  My wife and I spent last weekend exploring the Boynton Canyon, and it was both beautiful and powerful to witness God’s handiwork.  But, as Tennyson wrote, nature is both “red in tooth in claw”, meaning that in spite of its beauty, it also has a funny way of turning on us in the least opportune moments.  I recommend “127 Hours” for its beautiful scenery, gripping story, and for a superlative performance by James Franco.  I’d give it 3.5 out of 5 stars.

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I apologize for the long delays between blog posts.  I’ve been busy with work and teaching a class.  Stay tuned for my upcoming book review of George W. Bush’s “Decision Points.”  I hope to contrast this book with another recently viewed movie, “Fair Game”, about the outing of undercover CIA agent Valerie Plame during the G.W. Bush administration, and starring Naomi Watts and Sean Penn.  Until then, I’ll talk to you Afterwords.

Beautiful Loser: What We Learn From Risking Failure

Beautiful Loser:  What We Learn From Risking Failure

I drafted this blog entry, longhand, in my deer blind on November 15, 2010.  My only consuming thought at the time was: “What a miserable failure I am.”

I had just missed one of the larger bucks ever seen on my Dad’s 160 acre farm.  I’m killing myself because it’s embarrassing (not to mention not very macho) to watch a trophy buck gallop past you at 60 yards while you unload your gun and watch him prance away into the neighbor’s woods.  You have to face friends and family and answer this question repeatedly:  “Did you get anything?”  And your only response can be:  “I missed him.  I failed.”

I quickly moved to pick myself up by the process of positive reinforcement.  The thrill of success in hunting cannot be accompanied without the chance of missing.  And I am now suddenly struck with the importance of failing as a means to being successful.

I’m reflective these days about chances taken, roads less traveled and some Y’s in the road that I avoided – some wisely and some in cowardly fear.  I’m thinking a lot about mistakes and failures – something we who have crossed the “halfway” point in our lives must ponder.  I am on the brink of having more to look back on than I may have to look forward to.  And failure comes alongside me as a friend and an enemy.

Failure is an American hallmark.  The Founding Fathers failed in their attempt to broker some type of reasonable peace agreement with a pigheaded king an ocean away.  The result of this cataclysmic failure spawned a revolution that resulted in the formation of the greatest triumph of the modern world – America.

Success is a recipe with multiple ingredients (skill, bravery, planning, resources, luck, etc).  Failure is a simple recipe.  It requires one part trying.  Without trying there is no failure.  It is a miserable existence to live without experiencing failure, but sadly, many people starve themselves on a diet of being comfortable when the feast of failure lies around the corner.

Twice in my professional life I have attempted magnanimous undertakings which moved me to fear, tears and trembling.  Failure, it seemed, had a better than 50 percent chance.  I now share these experiences with you not to boast, but to inspire you to take calculated risks which may very well result in failure.

My first look at failure happened in my twenties, when I had a decent job but aspired for more (more challenge, and yes, more money).   Having met “minimum requirements” for the job, I bluffed my way into an interview and did surprisingly well.  Then, through sheer moxie I suppose, I got that fated phone call:  “We think you’re the best candidate and would like to offer you the job.”   Prior to this call, the fun was in the hunt and I had no reasonable expectations that I would be offered a job that I was likely not emotionally ready to tackle.

Upon acceptance I went into a small-scale panic attack that included (private) tears, trembling and anxious whispers of “My God, do these people even know what they’re doing?”  (In these moments, we must consider failure as a real option.  Then we must face it down and accept the reality that it won’t kill us).

That job ended up being one of the greatest experiences of my professional life, stretching me a thousand miles and presenting dozens of more chances for new failure.  I probably failed in about half of those opportunities, but the other half resulted in small and large victories which prepared me for greater opportunities down the road.

The second opportunity for failure came in my thirties and revolved around getting an advanced degree in an accelerated MBA program.  Admission required retaking college math courses, taking the GMAT exam, getting accepted into the program, and securing a highly sought-after scholarship (all chances for failure).  I passed the courses, barely made GMAT minimums and got admitted.  Unfortunately, after making it as one of two finalists, I was rejected for the scholarship in lieu of a “more qualified candidate.”  Failure had won this time.  The rejection and disappointment hurt deeply.

Months later, a new opportunity afforded itself which provided access to the needed funds to enroll in the program.  Once I began this program, I quickly realized I was the 90^th smartest person out of 90 total students, comprised mostly of engineers and CPAs (I was the only English major in the entire program, which the corporate finance professor loved to remind everyone of).  Failure seemed imminent again.  This time, my fear of flying was resolved thanks to the help of four newfound friends within the program (an engineer, a  CPA, a physician and a TV anchor) whose superior intelligence was also peppered with generosity (and perhaps a dash of pity!)  Risking failure produced four excellent friends who I am still close with today.  It also produced an MBA at the age of 38.

Now in my 40s, I can point to many other failures, some of which had benefits, and others which taught me what not to do in the future.  (Running a sub-4 hour marathon took me two tries and had residual benefits. Investing in real estate at the apex of a historic bubble has been more painful and the jury is still deliberating.   Making my own stock picks?  Total failure.)  And yet, even in the losing there is excitement and a sense of growth.

Back to my deer story.  Metaphorically speaking, every missed deer is an opportunity to rethink how you might have done better.  It makes you that much more prepared for the next opportunity.

I don’t mind thinking of myself as a beautiful loser.  When I lose, I tend to lose big, and even when I win, the victories are relatively small.   But there’s a lot of satisfaction in trying, and to some degree we can measure our lives in the kind of risks we have taken (or not taken).  They say failure is an orphan, and success has a thousand fathers, but I disagree.  Failure is a foster-child looking for a home.  Invite him in every now and then and you’ll be surprised at how much you enjoy the company.

Talk to you Afterwords….

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Why Do Hunters Hunt? And Other FAQs About Hunting

 11-14-10

Why Do Hunters Hunt?  And Other FAQs About Hunting

I was travelling to a meeting with a business acquaintance earlier this week and the topic turned to hunting.   My friend wanted to know what all these “…little buildings in the middle of farm fields” were, and I chuckled as I explained they were deer shanties.  He and I represented the two types of people in the world – those who hunt, and those who don’t.

Anyway, what followed was about one hour of questions about hunting.  As my friend admitted later, he was not raised in a hunting family, although he had no objections to it per say.  His questions struck me as comical, only because the answers I gave were as second nature to me as a discussion about accounting methods might be to a CPA.

Therefore, on this most hallowed of hunting season eves – the opening of Michigan’s firearm season for deer – I offer the following, ubiquitous Frequently Asked Questions About Deer Hunting:

Why do you hunt ?   This is difficult to answer if you were not raised as a hunter.  Fortunately, I was raised in the Thumb of Michigan, where hunting is as common to Thumbers  as commuting is to city folk.  Simply put, we hunt for food (venison); for crop damage control (a few dozen deer can strip a bean field clean in a matter of days); and for sport (more on that later).  We also hunt in the Catholic sense – because it’s tradition and it fits our Orthodoxy.

Why do hunter’s grow beards?  Growing a beard is a rite of passage for hunters.  The beard itself provides shelter from wind and snow.  It also provides natural camouflage (if you’re manly enough!).  The conventional wisdom is that a hunter should cease shaving from November on until he has successfully tagged a deer.  Also, having a beard makes you feel like a Viking.  And being a Viking is really cool.

Why does the season open November 15?  Deer are nocturnal, and also pretty skittish around humans.  Except during mating season.  A male deer, or “buck”, enters into a fairly high hormonal stage in the late fall.  Around mid October, bucks enter the “rut”, a term which describes a basic sexual frenzy which causes male deer to become focused  on one thing only – finding a suitable sexual mate (picture the woods as a giant singles bar, with plenty of eligible doe, and bucks trolling day and night for a partner).  This increased activity gives hunters a chance to play policeman and crash the party, so to speak.

For those deer that mate, when are the fawns born?  The deer’s gestation period is about 200 days.  Hence, most does give birth in May.  Those “yearlings” are normally not large enough come November, and normally survive to become next fall’s potential crop of deer to hunt from.

What about bow hunters and black powder hunters?  In Michigan, the dedicated deer hunter (such as this author) can be treated to three solid months of deer hunting.  Bow hunting season starts October 1 and runs through November 14.  Firearm (shotgun and rifle) season runs November 15 through November 30.  December 1, bow hunting resumes and black powder/muzzle loader season begins.  All in all, any hunter who wants a deer and commits the time should be able to bag a deer in 90 days.

What are all these terms I hear about, like “scraping,” “rubbing,” and “rattling”?  Positioning oneself to come within range of the elusive whitetail is not a matter of chance.  To the avid hunter, there are clear signs of buck activity in all fields and woods.  Bucks create “scrapes” along tree lines, where they paw the ground and urinate to attract does in heat (note to novice readers, this does not work for humans).  They also rub the velvet of their antlers on small trees, creating noticeable “rub” marks.  Hunters position themselves in these areas.  Furthermore, hunters use doe “bleats” (a rubber instrument which replicates the sound of a bleating doe in heat).  Finally, they attract other dominant bucks by “rattling” old antlers together.  The sound of other bucks fighting attracts dominant bucks – similar to a schoolyard fight which attracts a crowd.

Do you really “field dress” a deer in the woods?  This was a question my non-hunting friend was afraid to ask and somewhat shocked to hear about.  It’s true.  Shortly after downing a buck or doe, the hunter must complete that most gruesome of tasks – to make an incision from sternum to abdomen and more or less empty the body cavity of the major entrails.  I’ll not go into detail here.  All I can say is make sure your knife is sharp, and invest in some shoulder length gloves. 

How do you “process” a deer?  Another good question.  Many hunters (my brother for example) are skilled processors who can skin and butcher a deer in matter of hours.  Myself?  I’ve not yet invested the time for this chore, so I simply drop it off to any one of a number of local “processors” who specialize in taking a corn-fed deer and turning it into steaks, chops, jerky, sausage, hamburger and roasts.  Average costs of processing a deer range from $50 to $100.

Is this really a sport?  Don’t you feel sorry for the deer?  This is a fair question and one I struggle with, especially with the non-hunting crowd.   First, most hunters (at least the good ones) understand that hunting is a form of conservation.  Michigan’s deer population is estimated at 1.5 million, with around 400-500,000 deer annually taken by hunters.  This activity adds about $500 million into the annual state coffers.  Another 60,000 deer are hit by Michigan drivers each year.  Finally, Michigan’s winters are tough, and thousands of deer perish each year due to starvation, disease and over population.  Responsible hunters think of the fall deer hunt as a harvest –removing a select number of deer each year.  If you’ve ever seen a starving group of deer in the winter, you might agree that the herd control provided by hunters is much more humane than letting them starve.

Finally, regarding the sport aspect, I DO think it is a sport when the rules are followed.  There is a strategy to scouting, locating, and ultimately taking a deer.  It’s not the killing that most of us enjoy, but rather the strategy, the good times spent with friends and family, enjoying nature and rehashing the stories of the previous day and the previous year’s hunts.  And, as most hunters age, they increasingly become less obsessed with bagging an animal and more enthused about just being in deer camp.

I hope if you’re a non-hunter, you’ve learned a thing or two.  And if you’re a hunter, I wish you well Monday morning.  Be safe, and hunt responsibly!

What Obama Can Learn From Sports

What Obama Can Learn From Sports

11-3-10

(Blogging from the road in Tennessee, somewhere between Nashville and Knoxville)

Crossville (TN) –The landslide that was Tuesday’s election gives us a moment to catch our breath, then turn both forward and backward to reflect on the most recent Obama Drama.

In looking backward, we can still see Barack Obama, his Superman “S” clearly visible from his blue-like-jazz necktie.  The Barack Obama of 2008 was the student body president and homecoming queen rolled into one.  Popular, Poetic, and Pretty.   

Back then, the Student Body President was someone who was worthy of our admiration and optimism.  Perhaps not worthy to lead us into war or through a major financial crisis; but just because you haven’t done something before doesn’t mean you can’t do it.

All of which got me thinking.  Barack Obama could learn a thing or two from the sports world.

Sports Analogy No.1 about the Obama Experiment.  Obama in 2008 was like Buster Posey in this year’s World Series.   Posey – the fresh-faced, 23-year old catcher of the now-World Series champ San Francisco Giants – was unaware that rookie catchers don’t hit homeruns, gun down base runners, and lead their team to World Championships.  Whispers of Yogi Berra and Johnny Bench followed him into the post-season, and Posey didn’t disappoint.

Just because you haven’t done something before, doesn’t mean you can’t do it. 

Barack Obama entered 2009 as one of the most heralded political saviors of our time.  He didn’t know that 40-something, African Americans with nary a full US Senate term aren’t supposed to be President of the United States.   Whispers of John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King followed him into a convincing Presidential landslide in 2008.

Just because you haven’t done something before, doesn’t mean you can’t do it. 

Or does it?  Looking back, it’s hard to know if Obama was a new solar system or just another shooting star. 

Sports Analogy No. 2.  Not everyone can handle the stage.  It’s 1998 and there’s a tale of two quarterbacks.  Peyton Manning was the cerebral, legacy son-of-an-NFL-quarterback from University of Tennessee.  Ryan Leaf was a rock-star, missile throwing quarterback from Washington State University who could sling the ball from end zone to end zone.  After much due diligence, the experts determined that their talent was virtually equal.  Manning became the No. 1 overall pick of the Indianapolis Colts, while Leaf was taken second by the San Diego Chargers. 

Twelve years later, Manning is a first ballot Hall of Famer, with numerous records and a Super Bowl ring.  Ryan Leaf is the answer to the trivia question, “Who was the biggest quarterback bust in the history of the NFL?”

With Obama, the jury has deliberated for two years, and just got a 60-day recess to see if he is our generations political Peyton Manning or Ryan Leaf.   All of which brings us to the look forward.

There is no dishonor in inexperience.   Just because you haven’t done something before, doesn’t mean you can’t do it.  And just because you fail once, or even twice, doesn’t mean you can’t bounce back.   But this much we know after Tuesday’s Republican tsunami.  Barack Obama is failing, and his ability to recognize this going forward is now the most important issue.

Obama has apparently stated that securing a second term is of little consequence to him.  This might be admirable, if it weren’t so shocking.  Also, I don’t believe it for one minute.

Obama’s confession to Harry Reid in 2006 that he “had a gift” is telling.  Such prescience is not accompanied without great ego.  Obama applied his “gift” to the Presidency, not to a mayoral run or another term in the Senate. Such lust is not satisfied at the age of 49 after a single term.  Sports Analogy No. 3.  Consider Brett Favre, the old, gun-slinging quarterback for the Minnesota Vikings who has thrice wept and retired, only to return to feed the appetite of the alpha male ego.   Barack Obama is Brett Favre lying in wait.

So, with these points behind us, I now ask the following three questions of Obama and those who still believe in him:

1.        Do you really think America is wrong (or “scared” as you have said)?   Or, is it possible you need to consider the alternate and prevailing reality that maybe you were late to the party, and should gather some more info before you can become the life of it?

2.       If you still think you are right, and most of us are wrong, will you nonetheless take a leap of faith and allow the American Majority to help you in this journey?  (Sports Analogy No. 4.  Please Google “LeBron James Admits He Would Do Things Differently”).

3.       If you have been at all humbled by Tuesday’s election, hope to win a second term, and believe that there’s something YOU can learn from an angry electorate, will you tip-toe to the middle even a wee bit?  If so, you may discover that unity means not only us trusting in you, but also you learning something from us.

In closing, we consider Sports Analogy No. 5:  New York Giants football coach Tom Coughlin.  A notoriously arrogant coach, Coughlin was famous for his red-faced rants and ability to dress down even the biggest stars.  After nearly losing his job in 2005 and driving away some of the sports bigger stars, Coughlin underwent intense introspection before the 2006 season, changing his demeanor and endearing himself to his players. 

The result?  The New York Giants won the Super Bowl in 2007.

C’mon Coach Obama, we could all really use a win.

Ten Things to Love and Hate About Obama

Ten Things to Love and Hate About Obama

My parents taught me to be fair-minded, so I try to find the good in everyone and everything.  For this I am oft-criticized, but it’s a part of my DNA.   When the topic is politics, I’m from the “everyone-gets-a-clean-slate” school of thinking.  I will confess I had a tad bit of optimism two years ago after Barack Obama was first elected, but I’ll further confess that almost immediately I began to develop a rather unhealthy loathing of nearly everything he has done.

Nonetheless, in the interest of bi-partisanship on this election eve, I hereby submit an entry that will make both Bill O’Reilly and Rachel Maddow hate me at the same time.  Here we go:  Ten Things to Love and Hate About Barack Obama (alternating between love and hate to keep it fair and balanced).

Love:   He’s OUR President   I’m from a rather patriotic family and we were always taught to support the man in authority.  Truthfully, I’ve never understood wanting to see someone fail, and I had hoped that Obama could unite the country.  It hasn’t happened, but it won’t stop me from rooting for him to succeed.

Hate:  He Smokes!   I can’t recall the last time we had a smoking president in the White House (one who inhaled anyway).  The fact that Obama has made Health Care his signature calling card, but has continued to drag on heaters, is amazing to me.  The press has given the Puffer-in-Chief a free pass for this, and he should make smoking cessation his midterm resolution.

Love:  He’s black – I know that Bill Clinton told us he was America’s first black president, but I think Obama has him dead to rights on this one.  Even without a suitable birth certificate, Obama has convinced Harry Reid (!) and others that he is African American.  All joking aside, I can remember thinking just 10 years ago, “I wonder if I’ll live to see a black president. “    Conservative or liberal, you should feel good about this important step in our nation’s history.

Hate:  He’s Arrogant – I suppose Presidents are not unlike heart surgeons in this regard.  I mean, we really don’t want a milquetoast for President.  But man, Prez, a little recognition of your own humanity might be a good start.  Never has a sitting president continued to blame previous administrations for all of his problems like Obama has.  Too much hubris makes Barry a one-term POTUS.  Earth to Barack:  Brett Favre called and said to get over yourself.

Love:  The Prez is Cool!  Let’s face it, compared to John McCain, Bob Dole was cool.  But beyond that, Obama is a hipster.  The Prez tweets!  The Prez has a Blackberry!  The Prez goes shirtless on the beach and is buff.  The Prez is a baller.  If American machismo is directly related to who’s in the Oval Office, then Europe is Potsie and America is now the Fonz.

Hate:  He’s got Shady friends – There’s a long trail of creeps in Obama’s past.  William Ayers.  Jeremiah Wright.  Rahm Emmanuel.  Chicago politics has never been known for its straight-laced politicians.  And as bad as the aforementioned guys are, I haven’t even mentioned Governor Bloggo yet. 

Love:  He’s got a dog – Look, Obama could have had any pet, including a cat.  He chose a dog, and that’s cool.  And the dog’s name is Bo.  That’s Bo Obama, if you need him.    Enough said. 

Hate:  He’s an Apologist – For me, there was nothing more offensive than to watch Obama use taxpayer money (and Air Force One) to jet around the world and apologize for American “transgressions.”  His first 100 days included his “apology tour” where he claimed America “…has shown arrogance and been dismissive, even derisive” towards the world.    Michael Moore can do this.  Our president cannot.

Love:  He’s a true Believer – I have some admiration for Obama’s determination in plowing through health care.  He was stubborn and dismissed the polls, believing that passing health care was his oath to those who voted for him.   Despite opposition, he rammed it home and has likely cost himself the house and maybe the senate in the process.  I have it on good account that Obama is not consumed with winning a second term.  For this he is unique and has my admiration.

Hate:  He’s a True Believer – That’s not a typo.  That same zealousness that garners my admiration stokes my anger.  Obama has a sincere disdain for business, and has never held a job in the private sector.  He believes that if government wasn’t the right answer the first time, more government is the next solution.  Liberal?  The First Hoopster is so liberal he refuses to go right. 

So there you have it.  Have I missed a significant item to like or dislike?  Join this blog and provide some feedback, or hit my Twitter at www.twitter.com/kshawsby or comment on my Facebook page.  And above all else, Vote on Tuesday!

Talk to you AfterWords…

Nomenclature and The Unlikely Disciple: My thoughts on words, plus a book review.

Nomenclature and The Unlikely Disciple:

10-25-10

I’ve been thinking a lot about words lately.  Words have different meanings to different people.  I think this is why context is so important.  The words you use should be carefully chosen for the audience you’re addressing.

For example, if I told you to get your electrolytes and work on increasing your lactate threshold, you might raise an eyebrow.  If I suggested you use a whisker biscuit and a peep sight, you might slap me.  If I asked you to give me your testimony and explain to me the last time you witnessed to somebody, you might be further perplexed.

The first phrase I shared above is distance-running-talk for rehydrating your body and increasing your body’s ability to store glycogen.  These are terms that marathon runners would be familiar with, as they have rich meaning and help marathoners avoid hitting the infamous “wall.”

The second phrase refers to bow hunting terminology.  A whisker biscuit is a ring filled with thin “whisker” like stems that hold a carbon arrow in place and help archers maintain accuracy.  A peep sight is a small plastic cylinder inserted into a bow string.  When the shooter pulls his bow back, he peeps into this cylinder and aligns his arrow with the target.  Most bow hunters quickly recognize these as accessories to successful bow hunting.

The last set of phrases are words associated within the evangelical Christian community.  A testimony is your spiritual story, or how you came to know Christ.  Witnessing is the manner in which you actively share your faith.

So, unless you’re a distance-running, bow-hunting Christian, one of these sets of phrases may have tripped you up.  You have to have context for these words for them to have meaning.

All of this is a rather long setup for a review of a book I just finished.  It’s called, THE UNLIKELY DISCIPLE:  A Sinner’s Semester At American’s Holiest University.   My take-away of this book brings me full circle to my opening premise that words matter.  Let me explain.

In 2007, Kevin Roose was a 19-year old freshman at Brown University.  A self-proclaimed agnostic, Roose was mired in English studies at Brown in his Fall Semester.  Because he was raised in more of a Quaker setting, he had very little exposure to evangelical Christianity, and consequently knew very little about a place like Liberty University.  (If you’re not aware, Liberty University is an ultra-conservative Christian college founded by the late Jerry Falwell, the leader and founder of The Moral Majority.  Full disclosure:  I have good friends who graduated from Liberty, and many kids from my church have attended or are currently attending Liberty.  So, I know more than the average reader.  On top of that, I got my undergraduate degree in English from Cedarville University, a small college in Ohio that would not differ much from Liberty).

Roose decides to transfer to Liberty to discover what exactly goes on at this “…conservative, Christian utopia.” He does some strategic, verbal gymnastics during the application process and manages to sneak in as a transfer student.  There’s a presumption that Roose is a Christian, as being a Christian and agreeing to The Liberty Way (a doctrinal and lifestyle statement that all students must sign and agree to follow) are preambles to acceptance.  Roose is accepted and moves in to “Dorm 22” , a ubiquitous building name which seems to be his Stalag 17, with Roose as Hogan to Falwell’s Colonel Klink.

What follows are 300 pages of sincere undercover work.  Roose starts out to confirm his suspicion that young evangelicals “…spend their time huddled in dark rooms, organizing anti-abortion protests and plotting theocratic takeovers.”  He expects to find 25,000 students who will not defy the wishes of the benevolent televangelist, people who will fulfill Falwell’s dream of creating the next generation’s Moral Majority. 

In order to maintain his covert status, Roose hilariously goes through a sort of “Christian bootcamp.”  His drill sergeant is a high school friend, Laura, who, as Rouse states, grew up in a “conservative evangelical family” and had “real Christian street cred.”

Laura introduces Roose to the world of evangelical-speak.  “Christian culture is not something you pick up,” she tells him.  “These kids are going to know you don’t belong here.”  For three days in Baltimore before his first day of school, Roose is introduced to Veggie Tales, The Left Behind Series, CS Lewis, and contemporary Christian music.  And , of course, Roose is warned that “cursing is a serious no-no in evangelical circles.”  (When Roose does slip and let a few “S” or “F” bombs out, he will learn the hard way that swearing, like so many other rules violations at Liberty, are subject to “reprimands” and monetary fines, all outlined and legislated in The Liberty Way.)

If you’re reading this and you’re a Christian, you’re probably starting to get that sinking, slipping feeling that Christians are about get another 1,000 pound anvil dropped on their head, that the Christians that Roose encounters will fulfill all the worse stereotypes.  You fear this because you know how Christians tend to be portrayed on TV sitcoms and in movies.  (True confession:  I laugh out loud at Homer Simpson’s evangelical Christian neighbor, Ned Flanders.  Why?  I’ve met that guy a million times!).

This is where the book takes a pleasant twist.  Roose is a fair-handed writer with a soft-spot for sincere people.  And one thing becomes increasingly clear to him during his four months at Liberty.  The Christians he encounters are real people.  Although Roose expected to meet holy warriors preparing for a crusade, what he encounters are roommates, dorm-mates and friends who share the same vulnerabilities he shares.  They have doubts.  They express fear.  They experience confusion.  They get drunk.  They have sexual temptation.   And yes – they transgress.  They sin.  And they experience forgiveness.

What’s so ironic about this is that Roose had never witnessed Christian vulnerability before.  He had to create a Christian façade in order to witness Christians letting their hair down.  And once he experienced the humanity of Christians, he liked them an awful lot more!  It seems that those within the Christian community are intent on building this false wall of “sinlessness” in front of non-Christian people.  But once you join the team, we’re happy to expose you to all our shortcomings, warts and all.

It got me thinking that the false front Christians often propagate is constructed with words.   If you’re a Christian, are you guilty of speaking in platitudes?  Do you toss around catch phrases like “the Lord’s will” and “I’ll pray for you” to your friends?  Do you jam scripture down the throat of a hurting friend who has no context for trite Christian-speak?  A little vulnerability and humanity might go a long way in showing genuine concern.  People outside the faith community don’t know Romans 8:28 from a lactate threshold.  Next time, offer to make that hurting friend dinner and save the buzz words for someone who cares.

I’ll not play spoiler on what happens with Kevin Roose, because I’m recommending this book and hope I’ve peaked your interest enough to read it.  What I will share is that Roose gets further entangled in Liberty lore , brokering a one-on-one, personal interview with Jerry Falwell for the student newspaper, an appointment that ends up being Falwell’s last sitting interview before his death in the spring of 2007.  Little did Dr. Falwell know his final interview was with the Unlikely Disciple, Kevin Roose.

If you’re a non-Christian and have a harsh view of Christians or Christianity, I recommend this book for its even-handed insight.  You may very likely share some of the common misperceptions that Roose did, and might be surprised to learn that Christians are flawed, yet sincere people who wish to extend peace and grace (yes, we have some funny ways of showing it at times).

If you’re a Christian, you owe it to yourself to read this book to see how the non-evangelical community views you.  And I encourage you to empathize with some of those views.  You need not compromise your values, but you may want to rethink your strategy.

As always, I'd love your feedback and comments.  Talk to you AfterWords.

Welcome to my blog...AfterWords

10-23-10

If you're reading this, you probably know me, and if you don't, you can read my profile on this blog...

Let me tell you my goal with this blog.  I've entitled it AfterWords and it is borrowed (nee stolen) from a number of magazines I've seen that reserve the last page of their magazine for a final comment, summary or a unique special interest feature.  I'm not a feature novelist or one given to long tomes about topics.  Rather, I hope and expect that this blog will give me a chance to drop in and drop out with quick hits (beyond 140 characters, sorry Tweeters) and without having to be reduced to pithy comments like one might find in a Facebook Profile Status (apologies to Zuckerberg and the gang). 

Speaking of social media, I have actually embraced it and I hope this blog can be an extension of it.  I resisted Facebook for awhile and ultimately it won me over.  I resisted Twitter for an even longer time, but because of my chosen profession of being a marketing professional, I've been forcing myself to embrace social media because it seems to represent the next wave of journalism and communication and it also has business implications.  Many establishment journalists and old-timers believe that my generation and especially the ones behind me will magically accept old media as useful and relevant, say, when they turn 30.  But I've concluded it's not going to happen; that train has left town.  Old Media is Dead, Long Live New Media.

I hope to be able to use AfterWords as the larger platform for sharing my political and theological views; sharing movie and book reviews; commenting on other articles and OpEd pieces I read; and, generally promoting the things I am passionate about.  These are things that I regularly do on Facebook and Twitter, but I've become frustrated with both those applications and their limitations.  However, I have noticed an increasing number of people who are merging old media and new media in really effective ways.  For example, I follow a number of establishment news services on Twitter.  So, when Peggy Noonan writes a column for the Wall Street Journal, or when The New York Times breaks a story, they shoot off a tweet and simply share a link.  It's like an electronic abstract, with a brief "headline" followed by a bit-link.  The reader can choose to read, or completely ignore.  I've also noticed many amateur writers who have no official "portfolio" or notieriety, but armed with a free blog and a Twitter account (or, say, 800 friends on Facebook), they simply package their opinions on blogs and fire off links into the social media universe.  And people read them.

Writing or blogging, with the added components of social media, can become interactive between readers / friends in ways that old media had never been able to imagine.  So, if you choose to occasionally read this blog, it would be great to comment in any of the aformentioned applications or actually comment on the blog itself.

Here's the really beautiful thing:  You may say, "Well, Kevin, who are you and why should we care?"  To which I would respectfully respond:  "It's a free world, tune out if you'd like."  Comically, my wife has been patiently watching me bang out this first entry and the curiosity got to her.  She finally said, "What are you doing?".  When I responded, "Starting a blog," she laughed out loud and said "...you mean, like one that other people will read?"   I laughed with her, but the answer is "yes." 

And if no one reads it, it's okay.  I've been suspending my need to write for a long time while launching a career and raising a family.  But, yes, periodically I think I have something to say that's relevant.  On those few occassions that I have stuck my neck out and written something more substantial, I've always been blown away by the positive vibe I've gotten and it rekindles my fire to use the written word to communicate, persuade and inform people of things I care about. 

So, welcome, thanks for checking in, and be prepared for me to launch links back to this blog via FB and Twitter when I have new posts.  For example, I am currently reading a fascinating book entitled "The Unlikely Disciple:  A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University."  It's about a non-Christian who goes undercover and attends Liberty University (of Jerry Falwell fame) for a year.  For those like me with a similar undergraduate experience, I think this is an important book for you to read and understand the comical yet legitimate viewpoint of those outside organized Christianity.

You can follow me on twitter at www.twitter.com/kshawsby if you'd like those alerts.  You can also e-mail at kas0624@yahoo.com. 

Talk to you AfterWords...