Could it be that the columnist has finally gone over the edge? Does he really claim to be communicating with the recently deceased 60 Minutes commentator, Andy Rooney? Let’s take a look!
“People have often told me I said the things they are thinking themselves. I probably haven’t said anything here that you didn’t already know or have already thought. That’s what a writer does. There aren’t too many original thoughts in the world. A writer’s job is to tell the truth.” ~ Andy Rooney
On Oct. 2, Andy Rooney delivered his final commentary for 60 Minutes in his own, inimitable style; with the panache he had developed over a career that spanned some 70 years.
One month later, at the ripe old age of 91; he died in a New York hospital from complications that developed after minor surgery. A brilliant writer, journalist and commentator; Rooney was known for saying exactly what was on his mind, no holds barred, and developed a reputation as a loveable curmudgeon; a reputation I’m sure he relished.
I’ve always felt a sense of camaraderie with Andy. Each of us had a teacher who identified our talent for expressing our thoughts through the written word and encouraged us to write. My encourager was Mrs. Verzola, my eighth grade English teacher in Mansfield whom I’ve mentioned in several of my past musings. Her love for teaching and the English language, along with the investment she made in her students, came to have a huge impact on my life. She was my first mentor.
I’ve always loved Andy Rooney’s style, an approach similar to my own. He built an amazing career on saying things others were probably thinking. There’s a certain comfort in knowing someone else sees things the way we do, and Andy played that card brilliantly. He was a hard man to dislike, even when folks didn’t agree with his point of view. He was, in his own way, Everyman.
Don’t misinterpret what I’m saying here. I’m no Andy Rooney; not by a long shot. A quick glance at my financial statement will certainly verify that. But those of us who call ourselves writers have an appreciation for the little, everyday things we observe on a daily basis, and we take those seemingly mundane chunks of life and, as a painter does with the stroke of the brush; we transform them into art.
Writers are artists, entertainers, teachers, encouragers and rabble-rousers. Writers can make us laugh or make us cry. Writers can make us angry, fill us with a sense of wonder, teach us something new or confirm something we’ve always known.
As Andy Rooney’s quote at the beginning of this column states so simply, “….I probably haven’t said anything here that you didn’t already know, or have already thought. That’s what a writer does. There aren’t too many original thoughts in the world. A writer’s job is to tell the truth.”
I’ve written more than one-hundred columns since getting on board with Patch back in October of 2010 and with very few exceptions; I’ve enjoyed writing every one of them; the exceptions being those times when the ideas just didn’t seem to come; when nothing would gel. But it’s funny, those columns that were the most difficult to write; the ones when I sat staring at my computer monitor for hours on end, turned out to be some of my best. Funny how that works; the things we struggle with the most in life many times become our greatest triumphs.
Right about now I’m sure there’s someone reading this and thinking, Wow, Bob! There’s no conceit in your family. You got it all! But it’s a grave mistake to confuse conceit with confidence. Conceit reeks of self-importance and arrogance. Confidence is born of a sense of self-worth and pride in a job well done. Anyone who has met me will attest to the fact that conceit, self-importance and arrogance are not part of my resume. I am greatly humbled by the gift I’ve been given because I know it’s not entirely of my own making. When I write, something greater than myself is at work.
Without getting into it too deeply, let me give you a Bob Havey paraphrase of something from Scripture that may help me shore up my point about being gifted, humility and understanding from whence our gifts come. [I don’t think I’ve use the word whence in this Millennium!}
In Numbers 12:3 of the New International Version of the Bible, Scripture says, “Now Moses was a very humble man, humbler than anyone else on the face of the earth.” Would you like to know who said that? Moses! Yup, Moses, the humblest man on the earth, told everyone that he was the humblest man on the earth. Interesting, huh?
Moses was chosen by God to free the Israelites from their bondage in Egypt. The way it all went down was that Moses was just hanging out, minding his own business, taking care of his father-in-law’s sheep, when the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a burning bush. Now Moses was just a regular guy, a sheep herder, and I’ve got to believe this scared the living daylights out of him.
When God clued Moses in about the job He had for him, Moses said, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” And that was only one of his excuses for not wanting the job. He had a bunch of them. But in the end he did what God had given him to do.
If God gives you a plan, He’ll equip you to carry it out. That doesn’t mean it will be easy and it doesn’t mean it will make sense, but it does mean it will come to fruition if you hang tough. If you’re interested, grab a Bible and check out the rest of the story. It’s pretty cool. And it’s a great life-lesson.
The point is this – a lot of us react the same way Moses did when we know we have a job to do; something that may be outside our comfort zone. We’ve all been given gifts and when we step out in faith to exercise those gifts, we put the divine plan for our lives into action. And there’s nothing better than being in the place where you belong, exercising the gift you’ve been given.
This principle has been upheld over and over again in the lives of men and women from time immemorial.
So, you see, we can say with complete humility; I’m a good teacher. I’m a good singer. I’m a good mother, or whatever it is that we do – if we are using our talents in the area where we should be; the place where we belong.
I take a lot of pride in my writing, and I think I do a pretty good job. I can say that in total confidence because, without question; I know I’m doing what I’ve been called to do. As I said previously; I know it’s not entirely of my own making, and that’s a humbling concept to embrace. It garners a sense of responsibility to something greater than oneself.
So, because I know the source of my gifts and talents; I have no issues with saying I’m good at what I do. Oh, trust me! I’ve written some stinkers; lots of them. But the stinkers have become fewer and farther between over the years. The old adage says that practice makes perfect, but the truth is that perfect practice makes perfect. Albert Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. If we repeat the same old mistakes time after time, we’re honing the wrong skills.
We are called to work not only with our gifts, but on our gifts as well. No one ever said because we’ve been gifted in a certain area we have an excuse to be lazy in the exercise of that gift, or that things will be easy. In fact, just the opposite is true. We’re expected to work at refining our gift – and adversity will come. Resistance will rear its ugly head. Count on it!
But adversity breeds opportunity! As John Neal put it, “A certain amount of opposition is of great help to a man. Kites rise against, not with the wind.” I like that quote. It’s right on the money. Certainly, most of us don’t welcome difficulties, but welcome them or not, as I said; they will come. It’s not about what happens to us in life; it’s about how we react to it – how we play the cards we have been dealt.
I think I’ve just done exactly what Andy Rooney was talking about. I’ve just said some things here that you’ve probably thought about yourselves; some things you’ve always known. All I’ve done is told you the truth. The question is……….
What are you going to do with it?
And you thought this column was about Andy Rooney!
Funny! So did I!
There are times when the columnist just needs to let off a little steam. Caution: This is one of those times!
I was the kid next door’s imaginary friend. ~ 
I had my bully, and it was excruciating. Not only the bully, but the intimidation I felt. ~ 
To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: ~ 
It’s difficult to believe it was 50 years ago that I roamed the hallowed halls of Mansfield High School and Wheaton College. No, I didn’t attend Wheaton. You see, back then Wheaton was an all-girls school. No men allowed, except in the library where my friends and I spent many an evening hunkered down behind a huge pile of textbooks, studying. Of course we were studying the young ladies, but studying is studying, right? Why the pile of books? We hid behind them and peeked out as the girls walked by; kind of passive-aggressive stalking, I guess. Yuh, I know. That’s pretty pathetic, but boys will be boys. At least that’s the only defense I can muster at the moment.
The Way I See It! 