Running for Life

In my typical sarcastic fashion, I once wrote a column titled, ‘Runningis Stupid’. This self-deprecating piece was intended to offer some humor and levity to those dedicated marathoners and day in/day out joggers in our society. I wrote it just over a year ago.

Well, what a difference a year makes, huh?

On Monday, Patriot’s Day in Boston, one of the great traditions in sport took place for the 117^th time; The Boston Marathon. But the marathon and the sport of running, in general, will never be the same after what the world witnessed.

At approximately 2:50PM, almost simultaneously, two bomb devices exploded on Boylston Street in Boston's Back Bay, just steps from that historic finish line that so many thousands of runners dream of crossing after grueling months and, sometimes, years of training.

Here are the facts to date…

3 people are dead….including an 8 year old boy.

Hundreds of people are injured.

The city of Boston, and perhaps the nation, is back on high alert.

Winner’s tape is now police tape. That famous finish line is now a crime scene.

The media has provided around the clock coverage. Every leader, official and law officer has weighed in. President Obama has pledged the full force and backing of the White House.

Every person of power and authority is doing all they can to find answers to this senseless act or terror and violence. Those answers will surely come, hopefully sooner than later.

In the wake of the incredible sadness and confusion, we all want answers. Many want justice. Many want vengeance. All of us want peace.

I am in no position to provide any solution or even solace in the midst of this overpowering tragedy, but I can now say with total and utter clarity; running is certainly NOT stupid.

Running is perhaps the purest of all sports. A sport that can be experienced and loved by children at the youngest of ages to our elders in society that refuse to slow down because of a number(just ask 78-year-old marathoner Bill Iffrig who was knocked to the ground by the blast just steps before completing the race). Running and marathoning are as old as mythological Gods and embody the human spirit. A sport of will, determination and self-discipline. A sport that will now forever be tarnished due to the acts of a few.

However, running proved to be the savior in this whole horrific tale. Running, not by just those soulful and dedicated marathoners but also by the fearless first responders, courageous volunteers and innocent bystanders.

With the face of evil in plain sight of literally thousands of joyful participants and spectators, running is what help save lives and rescue our fellow human beings.

As we all witnessed this terror unfold on television we were also seeing bravery, courage and compassion that only times of true emergency and crises are revealed in people’s character. While our beloved police, fire and emergency service professionals leapt to action immediately, as they always do, so did the untrained, the unprepared and, in this case, the exhausted. Thousands of onlookers, confused and scared, almost instantly rose to this unimaginable occasion. Despite the bloodshed and loss of life happening right in front of their eyes during the world’s most famous race, people continued to run.

They ran to help the injured.

They ran to help a child.

They ran to donate blood.

They ran to lend a helping hand even in, perhaps, the darkest and most frightening moments of their lives.

People were running for life. Running to save their own. Running to save others.

Sir Roger Bannister, the first runner to run a sub-4 minute mile, once stated:

"We run, not because we think it is doing us good, but because we enjoy it and cannot help ourselves...The more restricted our society and work become, the more necessary it will be to find some outlet for this craving for freedom. No one can say, 'You must not run faster than this, or jump higher than that.' The human spirit is indomitable."

It is certainly hard to disagree with that last part.

God Bless.

 

Pontiff-icating

Well, it’s Holy Week. Easter is Sunday. And just two weeks ago, a new Pope was elected as head of the Roman Catholic Church; Pope Francis I!

Yes, the new leader of the Church has taken on the name St. Francis of Assisi, the saint most notable for his work with the poor and also for whom yours truly was named after.

When the announcement was made about the new pontiff’s name, my Dad immediately texted me completely elated about the news.

“Great day for Frankie (my son) you and Papa (my Dad, also a Francis)” it read.

And while I am fairly certain that the Holy Father did not have the McCabe boys in mind when he chose his new label, I have to admit, I thought it was kind of cool.

But this is not about educating you on Popes, Saints or the history of men named Frank in my family (by the way, there were a few bad ones in the mix…just saying). What got me thinking was what it must be like to be Pope?

Is there a more prestigious title in the humanly world?

As I continued to read up on the new leader of the church I was refreshed with some of the privileges this Holy Roller is entitled to.

For starters…

The Pope is the religious, spiritual and moral leader of over a BILLION people. That’s the United States times 3 and represents the largest religious affiliation in the world. So basically, he can shout out commands to one in every seven people and they might actually listen. How fun would it be to wander around giving ridiculous orders? One word: awesome.

“Kneel! Never mind. Sit. No, no, no, Stand! Kiss my ring! Do a hand stand! Jump in that fountain.”

And guess what…some people may do all of those things like a trained monkey.

What else? Oh yeah, the Pope is considered INFALLIBLE. I’ll say it again, INFALLIBLE. Think of all of the trouble you could get out of? No blame….for anything.

“Excuse me, your Excellence, did you spill the orange juice/leave the toilet seat up/murder the Prime Minister?”

“No I certainly did not! And are YOU questioning me?”

“Terribly sorry, your excellence. You are right. It was me. I will go repent now”

“That’s a good idea, my son. And while you are at it, I am running low on Starburst and vodka so why don’t you get to the store for me.”

That, my friends, would be….sweeeeeeet.

As I thought more about all of the perks of the pontiff, I decided to jot down some of the things I would alter (Get it? “alter”. Never mind. Heathens!) if I were Pope Francis I.

(NOTE: if you expect me to renounce canon law or touch on touchy subjects like abortion and gay marriage, think again. Ain’t gonna happen. I got in to enough trouble when I made fun of Barry Manilow…let alone the Church.)

And so…

If I Were Pope….



Sunday Mass

Church is a personal and private experience that means something different to everyone. That said, the Church needs more folks and more funds and unlike many of my loyal subjects, numbers don’t lie (sorry, already getting all ‘Popie’ on you!). So, from this day forward, all churches will now operate a fully functional disco, an open bar (wine only) and a free daycare service open for business each and every Sunday. You wants more peeps in those pews….lighten it up a bit!

Water & Wine

I can just see the advertisement…

“Water & Wine, the first Christian-themed water park conveniently located inside the walls of Vatican City! Enjoy our world famous “Pope Rope Swing” ride where Catholics from all corners of the globe are launched into our giant wave pool of Holy Water.

You want to make that next family christening an affair to remember? Bring your kid to the ‘Pope Floats’ baptismal pool!

After a long day on those sacred slides, slide yourself into “Stairway to Heaven”, our Paradise-themed restaurant and bar. Enjoy one of our famous ‘Bishop Burgers’ and delicious glass of our Pope-made wine while our God-fearing Led Zeppelin cover band ‘Peter, Paul and Mary’ bangs out your favorite church turns from yesterday and today. Located in the far end of the park, ‘Stairway to Heaven” is adjacent to the gift shop where you will find such coveted souvenirs as ‘Pope Soap: Cleanse yourself of your sins right in the convenience of your own bath tub!’

Confessions

Catholics love to bear their souls and seek forgiveness from God. Most leave the practice of confession with a lighter heart but often a guilty conscious. Let’s alleviate that bit. I would decree that all confessions end with the priest stating, “I am sure you didn’t mean it. Now go get some ice cream you crazy sinner!”

Lenten Fridays

For you non-Catholics, during the holy season of Lent (40 days leading up to Easter) it is common practice for believers to abstain from eating meat on Fridays. Well, guess who just classified ’bacon’ as 'vegan'? ME! Why? Because I am the pope and I can! Enjoy!

Sex

Sexual relations are forbidden for not only the Pope but all ‘men and women of the cloth’. I would….wait a second…no way….never mind. You almost got me.

But you may imagine what I would do with this rule….at least for this Pope Francis? ;)

Happy Easter!

Elf Discipline

Elf on the Shelf.

Every half-wit Mommy blogger in the world has covered this subject ad nauseam over the past few years.  I do not intend to offer you the same silly jokes, observations, or suggestions about this Christmas phenomenon. I promise.  Instead, I am going to share some effective (perhaps a bit harsh and in some case outright sadistic) methods to leverage this magical little friend for disciplinary purposes during this joyous holiday season.

Before I divulge these techniques, let me take a quick step back to bring you non-Elf-owners up to speed.

Per www.elfontheshelf.com, here is the low down…

“The tradition begins when Santa sends his scout elves out to Elf Adoption Centers. Waiting for their families to bring them home, these patient elves hibernate until their family reads The Elf on the Shelf, gives their elf a very special name, and registers their adoption online. Once named, each scout elf will receive its Christmas magic and become a part of the family’s Christmas each and every year.

Excellent listeners and even better observers, these scout elves are the eyes and ears of Santa Claus. Although they cannot be touched, or else they may lose their magic, the elf will always listen and relay messages back to Santa. Taking in all the day-to-day activities around the house, no good deed goes unnoticed; these scout elves take their job seriously.

Each night, after the family goes to bed, the scout elf uses his magical Christmas powers to fly back to the North Pole. Once there, the elf will make his or her daily report to Santa and visit with elf friends where they will tell stories about their beloved families, play with the reindeer, and of course, sneak some of Mrs. Claus’ cookies!

Before the family awakes each morning, their special scout elf will fly back to their home from the North Pole. However, since these elves like to play games, don’t expect to find them in the same spot! While some like to hide in the freezer (probably because it reminds them of the North Pole) and others prefer to sit on the fireplace mantle or hang from the chandelier, these elves love to play hide-and-seek with their families.

On Christmas Eve, the scout elf will listen for Santa’s bell and then fly back to the North Pole until the next season, wishing every girl and each boy a Christmas of peace and a year full of joy. Join the tradition and adopt your own Elf on the Shelf now!”

Blah, blah, blah.  These Elves (in my family’s case, “Sanny”) are 12” dolls, for lack a better description that for some strange reason kids actually believe are magical.  I call it genius branding! But the fact of the matter is this little Elf on the Shelf thing is making some guy or gal MILLIONS! 

For a full month of the year “Sanny” becomes the in-house Gestapo at our house.  Every time one of my little cherubs screws up, uh oh, “We are telling Sanny!”

“NO, NO…PLEASE…DON”T!  We’re sorry!  Please,” beg these small-minded simpletons.

“Ok, fine, but no more fighting/hitting/stealing/punching/smoking/whatever or we are telling Sanny who will surely notify Santa.”

And guess what?  It never fails.  If I am being very candid, the Elf is as good a disciplinarian as my wife or I could ever dream of being.  These kids are more scared of this inanimate object that any adult in their lives.

But, I got to thinking, what if it wasn’t enough to simply threaten to rat your little rats out to the Elf? What if we really needed to set an example of what will happen if they don’t wise up?  What if we, as parents, took extreme measures to enforce rules?  What if we treated the Elf with jail yard justice to make our parenting point?  Mob rules.  Violence.

 

While I would never endorse and certainly never partake in the following actions, I am confident they would result in some serious behavioral improvements and, for certain, cause severe childhood trauma that even Sigmund Freud could not rectify.

Level 1:  Exhibited Behavior - Not listening

You keep telling the kids to sit down/eat their dinner/lower their voices/hold the wheel.  Pick your minor infraction.  Instead of an idle threat to simply relay your discontent to your family elf; up the ante

“That’s it, I told you to sit down and eat your brussel sprouts.  Now see what happens.”

Grab said Elf, carry his magical little ass to the children’s viewpoint (and they know you are not supposed to touch him), grab a pair of scissors and cut his hand off.

“How do you feel about your vegetables now, kids?  See what you made me do?  Now Sanny is headed for the North Pole Emergency Room instead of Santa’s Village tonight.  Hope you are happy with yourselves?”

Should carry some weight.

Level 2: Exhibited Behavior - Fighting

Should those tiny treasures of yours engage in physical violence with one another and your ‘use-your-words-crap-psychology-spiel’ does not resonate; set the stakes higher.

“How many times have I asked you to not hit your sister?  How many?”

“You don’t know?  Oh really?  Well, let me ask Sanny.”

Grab your foot-long-merry-muppet, bring him to the sink and create a make-shift Guantanamo Bay water-boarding exhibit (this technique works especially well if you have your spouse pretend to be the elf and scream for mercy in the next room).

“Sorry, Sanny, but some people just won’t’ listen,” you sadly express to the elf as you simulate his drowning.

Trust me, this should break up the scuffle between Frick and Frack.

Once you believe this method had made it’s point, remove now soaked elf from water, wrap him in mini-blanket and place him on the heater as you apologize for nearly murdering him.  Visuals are killer lesson teachers.

Level 3: Exhibited Behavior - Stealing/Cheating/Bullying/Larceny

I realize most children that are still in ‘the believing stage’ will not likely get into this much trouble given their respective ages but let’s face it; there are some bad seeds out there.

If you just reach your limit and do not know what else to do to teach your child that you mean business then Level 3 should set Billy or Lilly straight for a long time.

“What do you mean you just took the candy from the store?”

‘What were you thinking when you looked at Shelby’s test paper?”

“You mean to tell me you pushed a girl at school because you didn’t like her headband?”

“Liquor store robbery.  Officer down?”

And here comes the dynamite.

For dramatic purposes, run away from your child in a frantic manner straight for the Elf on that Damn Shelf.  Be sure to run fast enough so the child can’t catch or stop you in any way.  Grab that cheery, smug bastard, bring him to the (lit) fireplace (If you don’t have a fireplace a lit cigarette/cigar can work.  If you don’t smoke a garbage disposal or blender can suffice) and throw him/her in.

“I’m sorry, Sanny, but ‘Sally’ just keeps making bad decisions.  This hurts me more than you, Sanny.”

Stand in a serious, mesmerized pose as you watch the magical guy burn alive in front of your child’s eyes (again, if you have a spouse strategically planted around the corner screaming bloody murder (pun intended) than it will only punctuate this display of pure evil and ensure an incredibly repentful – albeit damaged -child).

Once again, I highly doubt that any of you loving parents will ever need to take your disciplinary actions to this level, but Dr. Frank is here to help if they do.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!