Sabbath Messages > Sabbath Message: January 21, 2006
Good Sabbath
January 21, 2006
"It is good to praise God,
To sing His praise
To affirm Your love each morning
and Your faithfulness each night.
Your works make me glad; I sing with joy of Your creation."
(Sabbath prayer, Psalm 92)
Just before I left for lunch, yesterday and put my leg/foot up on a mini-ladder, I fell backwards just hitting my right elbow and missing serious injury to my head, as I twisted my right leg like a football injury. Momentarily I felt a little like Job as Fran and I seek recovery from various conditions, all assigned to "old age". But my "football injury was first suffered over 60 years ago when I was tackled returning a kickoff, ripping some ligaments. Old age is simply the accumulation of living as luck, fate and experience intermingled.
I went to lunch any way since my wonderful friend, Dr. Arthur Bartner, drove down from LA, so I could begin research on writing his biography along with that of USC's great marching band, that Art Bartner has been sculpting since 1970.
Meeting and conversing with this intense but gentle man is like reviewing history, by one who has made and lived it. I met Dr. Bartner through my friendship with Ralph Goodson, whom I had known for well over forty years, and more recently, his superb wife, Trish.
As we shared our lives, Art found that his Dad and I had graduated from the same high school 10 years before me, from the same Eastside High school, in Paterson, New Jersey; further, his wife Barbara's, Dad graduated from it 10 years before that ( and who was mentioned extensively ("Swede" Masin)in one of Phillip Roth's famous best sellers.) We find how small our world's are from such conversations, such as Franny's Dad and my family coming from the dairy/ice cream business.
In between great hamburgers, we explored this exciting marching band's evolution, as I confirmed my feeling that it was more than another great sounding band, but a spiritual experience. The band has played at the Great Wall of China, opening of Epcot, the 1984 Olympics (800 combined musicians), had a top-of-the charts recording with Fleetwood Mac (Tusk), was in Forest Gump, the rededication of the Statue of Liberty. I got the feeling that when you joined this band, it was to see the world.
The pain of my fall was forgotten as I listened to his verbal outline for the book. I had seen him direct the band since he joined it, long before I had the pleasure of meeting him. I went to games for the football and future Hall of Famers, but the marching band gave rhythm and expression to players and their fans, including flag-girls, cheerleaders and skilled twirlers.
Men are often characterized as docile ex-hunters who gather in front of TV sets to watch football games. But we are also extended families-not just fans-to those athletes whom we grow to admire and love. In addition, as I have marched alongside this band, on the way from campus to the legendary Los Angeles Coliseum, gathering in their energy, humor and talented playing, their sunglasses-even at dusk-their singing as they march, when lips are released from playing, one realizes that incredible spirit, the spirit of Troy, that takes vicarious pleasure from watching and identifying with .
Growing from boyhood to manhood is more than gathering dos and don'ts; it is making friendships that can last as long as memory, comprehending that life is both losing and winning as we learn lessons from each, and it is in sharing and comparing our own embellished truths, fables and memories as they also grey-at-the-temples. We kid with words like, "not growing old, but older", as if that makes up for aches or worse pains.
I share these thoughts as I go through my Sabbath thoughts. As Coleridge wrote: "There is one art of which every man should be a master-the art of reflection, if you are not a thinking man, to what purpose are you a man at all."
This is not a once-young fool's rant about entertainment, but rather the mention of a man whose love has been music, as well as of his spouse. Since I went to a music school as a portion of my life's education, I have insight into its capacity to not only tame the savage breast, but also to educate the senses into the rhythm of living.
"Music is the prophecy of what life is to be; the rainbow of promise translated out of seeing to hearing.":(Lydia Child)
Be well, this Sabbath, as Franny's blood pressure becomes more stable but still cloaked with mystery and the long wait for the result of more tests.
sandy
