Author: William Douthwaite

Posted in memories

Strat-O-Matic baseball

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?
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There weren’t many items I remember being attached to, but one that comes to mind is my Strat-O-Matic baseball game.

Strat-O-Matic baseball is a dice game played with decks of team player cards. Each player chooses a team, sets a line-up, and the game begins. After each dice roll, you look up a result. Just like the real game, your player would ground out, fly out, strikeout, get on base or hit a home run. The game is simple, but it kept my brother and I and a neighbor friend occupied year-round in the 1970s.

I discovered the game when a classmate brought his Strat-O-Matic to school in sixth grade to play on indoor recess days. When I finally had enough money to buy my own game, I think I bought the 1969 edition, which included card decks for all the MLB teams that year. I’m really stretching my memory, but I’m pretty sure I had the Mets and Orioles from that year, who faced off in the World Series.

Later on, I bought a few classic teams from the past, like the 1927 New York Yankees, with Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. Or the 1931 A’s with Jimmie Foxx, my dad’s favorite player. And the 1950 Philadelphia Phillies, who could have won it all, but folded at the end of the season.

We would set up leagues and seasons seasons and play game after game after game. We kept score with pencil and paper, and typed up statistics on my mom’s manual typewriter. While it’s a two person game, you can also play it alone. We spent a lot of time playing Strat-O-Matic baseball.

I left the game behind when I started college in 1975. But my younger brother and a close friend from a few houses away kept playing and playing and playing.

I have no idea what happened to the game. Either my brother has it packed away in a box of memorabilia somewhere, or it got tossed when we sold and emptied out dad’s house. There’s never been another game I spent so much time playing.

Posted in Life

I’m on a mission

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
What is your mission?
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Photo by Tara Winstead: https://www.pexels.com/photo/mission-wooden-blocks-on-white-surface-7666429/

“Give me a mission!”

When we took our five-year old grandson and his two sisters to a playground, they climbed on the playscape, slid down the slides, and swung on the swings. Now what? “Give me a mission!”

The last time my son had brought his kids here, he challenged them with a scavenger hunt to keep them occupied for a while. Now they wanted a quest to accompany every outing.

As we discovered, it didn’t have to be complicated. There’s always trash around, so I said, “Go find six water bottle caps.” And off they ran. A few minutes later, they laid out a nice row of plastic caps on the picnic table.

“What’s the next mission?”

Life is filled with short and long term goals any of which could be classified as a mission. But I think this prompt intends to uncover an overarching purpose for one’s life. The mission shifts from graduating and getting a job to raising a new generation. Once they graduate and get jobs, another generation comes along to grandparent. But now my current mission is figuring out a meaningful retirement.

In his children’s novel Mathilda, Roald Dahl wrote, “I didn’t know where I was going until I got there.” I like this line. It fits my present mission as I explore relationships, improve skills, understand time, and ponder my mission on any given day.

When the mission is figuring out my mission, anything is possible.

Posted in Life

Just long enough

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?
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Photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash

My thoughts about living a long life are shaped by some of the ninety and one hundred year olds I’ve gotten to know.

Bob was ninety-eight years old when I called to see how he was doing. His eyesight was failing and he knew it was time to sell his home and finds a different living arrangement. He shared with me, “I know where I’m going after I die. I’m just not ready to go yet.” I thought, “Wow. When will you be ready?”

My dad was in his nineties when my brother and sister and I decided he couldn’t be alone in his house anymore. All of a sudden, he stopped taking care of the yard, cleaning the house, and getting haircuts. He knew it was time for a change, too.

When I visited my dad in assisted living, we spent a lot of time looking through old pictures. He said, “I think I’m getting old.” I said, “Dad, you’re in your nineties.” He looked at me like I was insane. “No I’m not!” When we affirmed his birthday and figured out his age, he was surprised by his age.

Another friend, Betty, has made it to one hundred and two years so far. She has outlived all her friends and most of her family. She had little to look forward to each day.

So why do we exercise, take vitamins, and eat a healthy diet? We want to put off death as long as possible. Which means aspire to live a very long life.

And we rarely stop to think about what that means.

It means someone else will be taking care of us. It means we will no longer live in our own home. It means that we will have outlived most of our friends and family. It means that you will most likely be very, very lonely.

So I want to live just long enough. Just long enough to hold a great-grandchild, finish writing my story, sing a song, eat a piece of chocolate, and down a shot of bourbon.

That should be long enough.

Posted in Life

I can do anything differently. But I probably won’t.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
What could you do differently?
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Photo by Mulyadi on Unsplash

For a whole year, people have asked me the opposite question: “What can you do the same?” In other words, what habits and systems will you establish to relieve stress, increase productivity, and make incremental improvements? This comes from successful folks who share their morning rituals with me so that I can have a better life. They discipline themselves to wake up at the same time, dress the same way, eat the same meals, and take the same route to work in order to clear their minds for more important tasks. Those folks would advocate that the one thing I could do differently is to do the same thing every day.

But Jerry Seinfeld challenged George Costanza, “If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right.” George tries it and immediately connects with a woman who had been looking in his direction. Doing things differently changes his life, at least for one episode.

So I can do anything and everything differently. The possibilities are endless. Multiple options are within my grasp. However, I know I’m probably not going to do much differently. I am a creature of habit.

But what I can do differently isn’t actually different. It’s just “one more” or “one percent more” of what I’ve been doing. It’s reading one more page or running one more minute. It’s writing one more paragraph or practicing a line of music one more time. It’s saying one more prayer or drinking one more sip of water. Over time, I run faster, feel healthier, and sound better. And I didn’t do anything differently.

Posted in Life

My billboard: “Choose joy”

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
If you had a freeway billboard, what would it say?
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I drive by billboards every day. The local ones I remember are those that make me chuckle. Like

  • “Zero wait time ER.” I recommend bringing a book to read.
  • “Number one hospital in the county.” Oh, by the way, it’s the only hospital in the county.
  • “The lawyer got me four million dollars!” Good luck seeing any of that. The other guy had no insurance.

My billboard would be short, sweet, and to the point:

“Choose joy.”

Plenty of drivers on the highway choose to be impatient, rude, speedy, irritable, oblivious, distracted, selfish, and irresponable. You know who I’m talking about.

Along with “Be generous,” “Pursue grace,” and “Be positive,” I’ve written “Choose joy” in the front of my journal, a daily reminder of that option. That billboard will remind me – as I drive by with all those drivers I mentioned above – that joy is within reach.

I find that gratitude leads to joy. I’m thankful for places to go, a car, fuel, and highways to get me there, people to visit, rays of sun from behind the clouds, a cup of coffee in the center console, music to listen to, and those in the car with me. It might take longer than I thought, I might have to go a different way, I may have to slow down because of the rain, and a truck may be right there on my tail. None of those things can steal my joy. Joy comes from within, able to overcome the frustrations, delays, and disappointments.

Those words always get me thinking. Maybe they’ll move someone else to make a similar choice. More joy, even a little bit, would be welcome out on the road.

Posted in Bloganuary, Stories

Flipping back and forth between the past and the future

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
Daily writing prompt
Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?
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That’s a great question. I want to say I think more about the future. After all, who wants to be mired in the past? But in reality, I’ll bet I spend more time thinking about the past.

My daily journaling/writing habit is to blame. Early each morning, I jot down what happened the day before, and then lay out the things I want to or need to do today. At that instant, I’m balanced between the past and the future. I try to come up with a list of ten things I could write about for my blog. These ideas come from the past, whether it’s something that made me laugh yesterday or a flashback from my childhood. The people I think about are ones I’ve talked to or done things with, not those I’ve yet to meet. I smile at photos on my phone that I took yesterday, moments from the past.

But then those thoughts will be interrupted by the future as I think of and jot down things I need to do, stuff I need to purchase, or people I need to talk to. A quick check of email alerts me to upcoming events I add to my calendar. A voice from the other room reminds me of our upcoming departure time. The future finds a way to elbow its way into my thoughts.

Conversations over morning coffee or a meal usually begin in the past. But they never stay there for long. How was your day? How did you sleep? How was your appointment? Did you remember to call him? Oops, no, I forgot. I’ll do it today. (Hello, future. You made it.) What do you want to do today? If you go to the store, don’t forget to get some of this and one of that. And just like that, future takes the reins of our thoughts.

Because of this prompt, I’ll be more aware of my thoughts as they flip from the past to the future and back again. What should I write about?” (Future) I’ll write about what happened yesterday. (Past) And then I’ll go get something to eat. (Future)

I believe the real challenge is to think about the present. To notice, savor, and remember the moment. Don’t let the past or the future crowd out the experience of right now.

Posted in Christmas

Be the Christmas card

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Yesterday, I took down and packed away the Christmas tree, decorations, lights, and other Christmas-y knick-knacks. Before tossing them, I glanced through this year’s stack of Christmas cards and noticed, as I usually do, the conspicuous absence of Jesus. Two of the twenty cards we received portrayed the infant Jesus. One made a reference to “him,” as in, “O Come Let Us Adore Him.” The rest were picture collages of families.

I’ve written about this before in my posts “I got more religious cards this year,” “Uh-oh. Jesus seems to be missing,” and “Would you send a secular Christmas card to your pastor?”

As I reflected on this year’s mail, I realized that these really aren’t Christmas cards. The photos show how much the family has grown. More detailed letters list the year’s adventures, joys, and blessings. They are annual reports. And that’s OK.

We sent out letters in cards this year for the first time since I don’t know when. Everyone’s life was displayed on social media, so annual reports seemed redundant. But we’ve got a lot of new friends, we’re spending a lot less time on social media, and we want to cultivate connections in our retirement years, so we got them all in the mail just in time for Christmas.

Anyway, the place you want the world to see Jesus isn’t on the front of a card (or a billboard, a bumper sticker, or t-shirt). Since we have “put on Christ,” others will see him in the way we act and speak, in the way that we treat and help others, and when we forgive. Don’t send a Jesus-Christmas card. Be the Jesus-Christmas card!

Posted in Bloganuary

What colleges have you attended?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Today’s WordPress Bloganuary prompt is “What colleges have you attended?”

I got my undergraduate degree from Franklin and Marshall College (F&M) in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. F&M is a small liberal arts college with an enrollment of 2,000 when I attended. All the professors were Ph.D’s, and the college offered no graduate programs.

My high school physics teacher, Nick Ignatuk, really pushed his alma mater, which is why I applied to F&M. I chose it over Bucknell and Penn State because they offered me more financial aid.

When I graduated high school in 1975, only about half the class went on to college. The rest got jobs, having completed a business curriculum or learned a trade. Since I graduated near the top of my class and was accepted by a competitive school, I had an inflated opinion of my academic prowess.

The rest of the freshman class at F&M had also finished near the top of their class. I was blessed with a healthy dose of humility as I began my classes. Many of my classmates were pre-med and pre-law, and they were smart and motivated. Everyone in my Calculus 2 class had skipped Calculus 1 with AP credit. Some guy in my European Studies class used the word ennui when describing slides of ancient ruins. I still don’t know what he was talking about. After failing the Chemistry midterm, my pre-med friends tearfully dropped the class and changed their major to Biology. Pre-law classmates in my dorm changed their majors when the government midterm got the best of them. The first basic accounting test knocked some of my friends on their butt. This was the real deal.

I had good high school teachers, but my college professors were off the charts. They were brilliant, eccentric, and published. Most had written the book we had to buy for the class.

I received a good education, but as I’ve written before, I learned more at the college radio station, in the band, and from fraternity life.

After I graduated and started my first job at Bell Labs, I was encouraged to pursue my master’s degree in electrical engineering. From the Asbury Park, NJ, area, I commuted to Rutgers in New Brunswick a few times a week and took a couple of electrical circuits classes. The professor didn’t really captivate the hundred-person lecture hall. And my heart really wasn’t in it. I did so-so, and then moved to Texas.

A few years later, I attended Concordia Theological Seminary in Fort Wayne, IN. I got my M.Div. there and began a new career in full-time pastoral ministry. My classmates at seminary were from all over the country and a variety of backgrounds. Some students had relocated with a house full of kids. Others were right out of college pre-seminary programs. At least half were second career like me.

My seminary professors were amazing, brilliant, and well-published, too. They also really cared about the students, their families, and their faith. The faculty made it possible for us to not only graduate, but serve in parishes all over the world.

Posted in garden, Life

Winter tomatoes

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After trying several varieties, I’ve had the most success growing cherry tomatoes in my raised gardens. Five vines filled the chicken wire cages I built to keep the squirrels out and produced dozens of cherry tomatoes.

Since those gardens were on the side of the house, they received enough shade to survive a Florida summer. I was still harvesting tomatoes well into October from a March planting. I was going to buy and plant new ones in the fall for the second growing season. Instead, I cut off some of the fullest branches, stripped leaves from the bottom half, and replanted them in the soil. They took root and grew beyond the confines of the cage itself. In mid-December, the vines were covered with small green tomatoes. On January 1, I harvested a nice crop for our first salads of the new year.

Unless we happen to get a freeze, I’m looking forward to many more.

I’m thrilled with my winter tomatoes for several reasons. First, it’s hard to find good tomatoes any time of the year in Florida. The ones in the store are some kind of coral color without much taste. These were red, ripe, and delicious,

Second, I didn’t have to buy these plants. I was able to start new vines from cuttings. So they were free. Kind of.

Third, picking tomatoes in January is like thumbing your nose at winter. I know, we don’t really get winter in Florida. But when the temps drop into the thirties, unpleasant memories of bitterly cold winters resurface. All I have to do is pop a tomato in my mouth, and all that goes away.