Heroes

Do kids have heroes anymore? When your Center City Correspondent was growing up we all had heroes, whether they were baseball players, actors in westerns, or my favorite, astronauts. It was easy to pick a Richie Ashburn or Mickey Mantle and follow his career, mainly through the newspapers and wish you could achieve what they had. Fan favorites also included Roy Rogers or John Wayne shooting their way through cattle rustlers or Indians. And when I was about 10 they picked the original 7 astronauts for the nascent space program; I knew all about them so when they went into space, I felt I was flying along with them. As you get older, hero worship fades away as you come to realize that they are merely people like everyone else and they have clay feet too. In the current day, it’s harder to have heroes because you find out all too fast that they have their foibles too (ala Tiger Woods). So what’s a kid to do nowadays? Who do they have to look up to – juiced baseball players, basketball players packing heat, tantrum-filled tennis players? You might ask how about our politicians, the ones who run our country? When they are not bamboozling billions from the kitty, they’re flying off to foreign countries for weekend dalliances. Not much choice there.


Last week I realized I still have a hero – someone I can look up to and emulate, and hopefully follow their footsteps, if I’m able. In our book club we recently read a few books about Joan of Arc, my favorite saint. She was a peasant girl in the 15th century who grew up to become the savior of her country; in fact she might be considered the first person to realize that there was a country to be saved. She was very successful at first, but then through political trickery, she was captured, tried as a heretic, and martyred. Her story is fascinating and resonates down through the ages; almost 600 years later we still read and care about her. She truly is a hero for all time. So don’t despair, if you need one there are still some people left that can qualify to be a hero for you. Keep looking; sometimes the journey is more illuminating than the arrival.

A Day Off

At the beginning of a new year it is customary for some people to make resolutions in order to improve their lot in life. Some of these are to lose weight, drink less, go to the gym more, get a job, be better _______ (fill in the blank). Your Center City Correspondent is not one of those people. He usually takes what life gives him and is happy about it. So no need for me to make any resolutions. Nope, not me. Besides, they usually are too general to be any good, and when you slip up, it just causes you angst.


But an overheard conversation in the bar sparked a memory that I’m going to try. I’m going to take a “day off”. That is I’m going to pick one day out of a week and not do the things that cause me grief. I’m not going to worry about anything, or get in an argument with anyone, especially Mrs. CCC, or swear, or get frustrated, or drink. If we can take two days off from work, why can’t we take a day off from the frustrations in our lives? I tried it the other day and it worked pretty well. I was very mellow, content and at peace. I’ll keep trying it on a weekly basis and let you know how it’s working out.

I want to give a shout-out to two of my readers in the hinterlands. If anyone is troubled about the youth of America, you should meet this young couple. They are terrific people; polite, smart and employed, a credit to both of their families. I know it’s a little outside my normal bailiwick, but we visited them last week and went to dinner in downtown Boyertown. We all had a great time and I wish them the best of luck when their bundle of joy arrives next month. God bless you both.

New Year’s Day was a treat here in town. We started the day with Mass at the Cathedral then we met some friends for lunch at the pub. Unfortunately, the pub was more crowded than church. Are the Flyers and Penn State football more important than their souls? I hope not. We walked over to Broad Street and caught some string bands playing in front of the Union League. I wonder if the Mummers know that most of them wouldn’t be allowed in the front door of the Union League. Mortimer and Randolph couldn’t have feathers and sequins all over the rug! I hope the Union League donates a lot of money to the Mummers for the front door entertainment. We finished up our travels at our local and toasted the fine day with some friends and acquaintances. All in all, a pretty good day.

Enjoy your week, and I hope you’re enjoying these ruminations. Drop me a line and let me know. You can reach the CCC at cjones1216@mail.com.

And remember to take a day off from your worries.

PS. Mike Tyson stopped by and he’s angry. He wants his tiger back.