A spiritual writer I admire, Regina Brett, wrote “play like you mean it” in her recent blog and it got me thinking about rating my own skills for playfulness. Score yourself, add questions that you think I should add, or just share your thoughts. My email address ends each article.
I’ll rate myself 1-10 on six questions, with 10 being highest.
- How often do you play board games and/or card games? (not at casinos) 10- Anytime, anywhere, with anyone
- Not much, but I still like cornhole and bocce if I’m having a beer
- I still enjoy such things but often choose to visit with their parents instead
- My favorite thing to do – the only reason it’s not a 10 is due to my frequent use of sarcasm which is often funny but not playful (like casino games and golf)
- The best I do here is watch mindless movies and the videos my friends send me by text, which is some funny stuff, but I need to do more of this
- I think I’m hilarious but if I am not, I still get an A+ for trying
There is a serious reason for thinking about this element of our lives. In my case, it relates directly to a family issue. Alice, despite all outward appearances, and all three of our 40-something children are intense. The good news, of course, is that we are doing well and prospering for the most part. The bad news, of course, is we all often take life too seriously. All five of us have a very playful side but Alice and Kevin probably use theirs more than the other three of us. We all need to work on it, though, so I’m guessing you do too.
Not long after I returned home 19 years ago, I reconnected with Frank Perry. Frank’s mom and mine were close friends and so we’ve known each other since we were infants, then went to school together for 12 years. He was a good football player and that, along with making a living on his feet, had left him with four joints needing replacement. After years of resisting, he submitted to a long series of operations done over a short period of time. “What made you decide to get it done, Frankie?”, I asked one day. He said, “I gotta be able to get down on the floor to play again now that I have grandkids, Timmy”.
Frank still lightens up every room he goes into, a smile and a tease or a funny story always on his lips. I admire him for that, always have. I want to be more like Frank, more playful since my score (48 of 60) is a low B. Lots of room for improvement.
What’s your playfulness score?
Peace.
Tim McCarthy
Quote of the Month: Paula Poundstone
It’s funny that we think of libraries as quiet demure places where we are shushed by dusty, bun-balancing, bespectacled women. The truth is libraries are raucous clubhouses for free speech, controversy, and community.
---Paula Poundstone
Song of the Month: "Growing Sideways” by Noah Kahan
Editor’s Note: I love great turns of phrases, especially when the discussion is self-discovery. This Noah Kahan song is his second shot (first was well-known “Stick Season”) as my featured song. I enjoy his self-deprecating humor and his deep digs into the whys of our being. When you listen, sit quietly, recognizing it’s a disquieting theme.
“Cause everyone’s growing and everyone’s healthy,
I’m terrified that I might never have met me.
Oh, if my engine works perfect on empty,
I guess I’ll drive.”
Book of The Month: "A World Undone" by G.J. Meyer
Excerpt:
“People everywhere were being told that this war was no continuation of politics by other means, no traditional struggle for limited objectives. It was a fight to the death with the forces of evil, and the stakes were survival and civilization itself. It is no simple thing to make people believe such things and later persuade them to accept a settlement based on compromise.”
Truly Funny: Father Norm Smith
New title for “Joke of the Month” since I’m going to keep doing true stories until I run out of them. Fitting our “playfulness” theme, Father Norm Smith was the catholic priest who took me to Cleveland’s inner city in the mid-1990s to learn the joy of giving. One lesson of his was that it is not enough to be loving, we should laugh too while serving to lighten the load.
Father and I would ride together to many of our meetings in the St. Clair Superior district. I was picking him up for a meeting that promised to be particularly heated one night when Father came out dressed in a full clown get-up, suit, floppy shoes, hair, even a red nose. I said, “Father, go get your collar on, we’re going to be late”. He said, “I am dressed, Timmy, things could get rough down there tonight”.
