Jim's Place

Throwback Thursday... "My Jolly Green Giant short-story"

During my 7th and 8th grade years at Wayside Middle School (Ft. Worth) my creativity really began to flourish. I was thrilled with my art class, doing India-ink abstracts, sand sculptures, carving objects out of plaster, silk-screening, etc. - and even doing extra credit projects, simply because I loved art so much. But surprisingly one of my most creative efforts was not in art class, but English. Yes, boring English class!

My English teacher gave us a creative writing assignment - showing us a picture of a man on a window-washer type of scaffolding, who appeared to be painting the side of a building. She instructed us to create a story behind the photo, of at least one page.

Well, my imagination went wild... I started writing a story about the famous "Jolly Green Giant" on TV. People didn't realize that he was actually a big lover of art! But that was the problem! He was so big, and all of the art was so small! He wanted so much to have a painting that was big enough for him to enjoy. So the picture was actually a painter working on a giant version of the Mona Lisa!

I went crazy with all sorts of related content, describing the life of the "Jolly Green Giant" that no one knew...how he felt alone because people were afraid of him...how he felt so disconnected because he was so different in appearance from everyone else... Before I knew it my story was 20 pages long! My teacher was stunned at how prolific this young man was!

That was 1968... A long time ago... My art teacher, Ms. Spearman cried when I told her we were moving. I wish so much that I could tell her now that she made a big difference in my life - fanning a spark of creativity into a flame that still burns bright... :)

Losing track of "normal"...

Occasionally, someone will comment on how much more athletic I am than most guys my age. While that's true, I'm still far less active than I would be if I had a normal level of wellness. Sometimes, to stave off that little voice that tries to suggest that my low level of activity is due to a lack of interest/ambition, rather than a lack of energy, I'll ask myself "If illness wasn't a factor, what would I typically be doing today?"

Well, yesterday the "normal" Jim would have done a 30-50 mile bike ride early in the morning with friends. Then he would have run a few errands and/or spent the afternoon out and about with his wife/girlfriend. Then he would have fired up the grill and invited friends over for a BBQ and pool party. And then he would have closed out the night listening to music and telling his woman how lucky he was to have her in his life...

Today, the "normal" Jim would have been in church bright and early, singing in the choir, having a great time yucking it up with his choir buddies, and then going out to lunch with his sweetheart and some friends from church. Then he would either work on his latest home improvement project or maybe go on a photo excursion with his sweetie. After that, maybe dinner at a nice restaurant and then back home to get ready to take on the week.

As you can see, there's a huge contrast... Yesterday, I shot hoops for an hour and that was all I did. Today, I haven't even ventured off of the couch. As grateful as I am for having connections to everyone on Facebook, if my health was even close to a normal level, I'd be on here far less - and much more engaged with the "real world". Anyway, this is not a "woe me" thing, but simply an exercise to help me put things in perspective. With a chronic illness a person can easily lose track of what "normal" is, and the likely side effect of that is that under the surface you start to blame yourself for something that is simply a matter of illness - nothing more, and nothing less... :)

Throwback Thursday... "My big break"

It was 1981. At the age of 26, I was barely scratching out a living doing telephone sales. I was grateful that at least I was no longer living in my car, but still, what kind of life was this for the guy who had done so well in school? Time for a change...

I registered with an employment agency, but that wasn't going anywhere, since my carpenter skills weren't marketable without a contractor's license. I met with a Navy recruiter and told him I wanted to enroll in the flight school, but I was too old. I took aptitude tests at the local highly-rated computer school - Coleman College - and although I scored high, I didn't qualify for financial aid. I was frustrated and a bit angry as I realized my only choice was to go back to the phones...

In the summer of 1983, my Mom inherited some money from my grandma and was anxious to get me into school. I could hardly believe it when she sent me a check for $5600 - the entire tuition for Coleman College! My coworkers, a motley crew of misfits, were thrilled for me, as if I was escaping the ghetto. The older guy, Hank, or as we liked to call him "Uncle Hank", bid me a thoughtful bon voyage... "Good for you, Jimbo. You were too smart to stay stuck in this kind of life. I know you're going to do well..."

I graduated from Coleman College in 1985 with a degree in Computer Science, averaging 99 for every course. For years, I'd almost resigned myself to thinking I'd never have a college degree, but as impossible as it had seemed, my dream had finally come true! I'd never looked for the easy way out, I just wanted a chance - and finally, I had my big break...

Throwback Thursday... "My one and only trophy..."

Spring 1973 - only a few months left of my Senior year. Southwest High School had been chosen as one of several schools to try out the new fitness program developed by Dr. Kenneth Cooper - "Aerobics". So in P.E. we started doing some intense endurance training on the track.

Periodically, we would test our aerobic fitness with an all-out 12-minute run. With asthma, it was often rough for me, but I liked the challenge. I was one of the slowest, but gradually worked up to being faster than everyone - except Sam. I kept pushing myself to the limit, often causing my coaches to be alarmed by my wheezing and coughing stuff up. Finally, after several weeks, I caught up to Sam and finished first - completing about 1.7 miles in 12-minutes.

Soon after that, the coaches called me into their office. Uh oh! But my main coach, who reminded me of the skipper on "Gilligan's Island", smiled... "Shelton, we don't give out awards here, but we're just so proud of how hard you worked this semester!" He then presented me with a trophy, inscribed with "Most Improved Athlete". I just couldn't have felt prouder! I'd already received my "award" - greatly improved fitness and lung function - but a trophy?! I'd never had a trophy before!

It was the only trophy I ever received, but it was oh so meaningful... For the first time, I felt that I could overcome my asthma enough to be an athlete. Those often torturous runs around the track set me on a path of making fitness a high priority...and made me realize that there was an internal strength far beyond what anyone would expect from the kid with such a gentle nature... :)