Someone calls me coach

There is only a few weeks left in this semester, and I feel as if my blog has been one-dimensional. I read through my writing, and I have not truly expressed who I am as a person, beyond a ranting waitress, and a damn good one at that. I am a plethora of things, one of which is a coach. I have 19 girls who range from 8-18. I teach them different techniques, different pitches, mound presence, and I try to be a positive influence in their lives. A couple of years ago, a fellow athlete spent a Spring Break in Lake Havasu, AZ. She was photographed during a wet t-shirt contest, and she lost her scholarship. She was a phenomenal athlete, but because of poor judgment, and alcohol, her career was cut short.
A girl in my class told us a story about spring breakers developing disturbing pictures. Here's her story. This made me think about pictures, and other things that can haunt you for years and years to come. Because of stories like hers and that fellow softball player of mine, I try to be careful about what hits the net. Somebody looks up to me. Somebody thinks that everything I do is cool, and somebody wants to be like me someday. Regardless of age, most little girls try to act older than they are. Look around. Look at the teenagers wearing low-rise skinny jeans and low cut tops. Look at girls wearing make-up at 13 and having sex by 14. This kind of stuff goes on, and older girls set the stage and the example for it. Even if someone doesn't call you coach, I guarantee someone looks up to you. Be careful of the examples you set. Something as small as a facebook picture is sending a message to someone very impressionable. You can only control yourself and your actions, but don't forget who else if affected by them.

How Did I Spend My Spring Break?

"Mr. Bell, a blockage in that area of the heart is typically known as the widow-maker."

"Mr. Bell, I have been here for 5 years and never seen a person get to the hospital alive after an attack like that.”

"Mr. Bell, that particular artery has a 92% death rate associated with it."

Regardless of how the doctor phrased it, we all knew it was a close call.
This was not the first close call my father had. There have been car accidents, surgeries, and work-related injuries galore. He is a roofer who doesn’t always “tie-in” to steep roofs. Growing up, I would watch my father as he encountered these close calls, but I never saw them affect him. He would laugh it off claiming the he got lucky. I watched him get in four accidents in one year, then sell the car because it was unlucky. This event, being 3 days before St. Patrick’s Day, made me think a little bit about luck, though.

Luck is defined as a chance happening, or that which happens beyond a person's control. I have never believed in luck, personally. I believe in cause and effect. That Saturday morning, though, I watched luck occur in its truest form. My father should not have lived through the ambulance ride to the hospital, but he somehow did. He is an incredibly stubborn man, who won’t visit the doctor unless it is to re-attach something, yet he called an ambulance because he felt ‘a little funny.’ The type of heart attack my father had kills 92% of the victims, but it didn’t kill him. I call that luck, but for the first time, my father doesn’t think it is luck. He thinks he has unfinished business.

I have seen my father cry twice in my entire life. The first was when my parents separated, and the second was Sunday morning when my brother and I got into our routine argument. We have one each time I come home. My father cried, and brought us outside to his patio.
“I am here for a purpose, and I know what my purpose is. You, and you,” he said as he pointed at the two of us. “My priorities have changed. I didn’t change them myself, but when I woke up in that hospital bed, nothing mattered in the world except for you, and you,” his voice cracked as he pointed to us again. I am typing through bleary eyes, because my father is not the most emotional person. He is a strong Southern man, who prides himself on being the backbone of our family. His way of expressing his feelings is patting his wife on the butt after a good meal, and buying me a punching bag after a guy breaks my heart.

Will my father forever be changed by this experience? It’s too soon to tell, but I know that something happened to that man. I saw the way that he looked at things throughout the week. It reminded me of my two-year old niece, seeing things for the first time. He told us everything too. He told us everything that he’d been holding in all these years. He told us that he wasn’t going to hold back any longer, and that we shouldn’t either. We talked. We all talked until there was nothing more to say, and I left Colorado knowing that my father and I had connected for the first time in our lives.
There are many things that need to change in the next few months in order for my father to stay healthy, but I know now that with his willpower, the love from his family, and a little bit of luck, he can do damn near anything.

S.A.M.E. is a much different concept

In downtown Denver, just off East Colfax, poverty seems to be the one trend that ties people together. Until recently, the only options for food were fast-food, or gas station food. In 2006, though, a young couple from Illinois decided to open a restaurant that was different from any other in that area. It was not as run-down as the rest of the area, and it granted hope to anyone and everyone who walked in the door, as it still does. It is called S.A.M.E. It stands for So All May Eat. It is a non-profit restaurant, one of the only ones in the country. This restaurant serves nearly 15,000 customers a year, but doesn't charge a single one. The customers are asked to pay what they can, when they can. If a customer can not offer any money at all, they are asked to volunteer an hour in the kitchen helping to prepare or serve food. While some might see this restaurant as a modern-day soup kitchen, they would be mistaken. S.A.M.E. offers a different menu for every meal, and most of the food is organic.

This is phenomenal. When I read about this restaurant, I thought to myself, 'Now that is the definition of community service.' This restaurant offers a healthy meal to people who can't afford a meal at all, in most cases. It is amazing that people get so caught up in restaurants to realize that no matter how good their souffle is, certain people can't afford to go out to eat.

This restaurant isn't just attracting people of limited means, though. There are business-types, hippie-types, college students, and more. There are people who come to support the cause, and people who truly just enjoy the food.

This is a new way to look at the restaurant industry. These owners are helping people one meal at a time. They are asking nothing in return, and they are truly unselfish people in this horribly selfish world. I commend you.

Local Favorites

Nothing is better than a locally-owned restaurant. There is no better restaurant to work for, either. Few people understand that locally-owned restaurants and bars have fewer rules and regulations to abide by. Now, don't get me wrong, there are always going to be standards, but there are less and less corporate incentives to "up-sell," an there is definitely a hometown feel. This is one editorial writer who agrees with me. It seems like certain restaurant chains are all the same. It seems like the food tastes the same, regardless of the state or city you are in. That's because it IS the same. These restaurants are sent pre-made sauces, veggies, and even certain meals. They want their food to taste the same way around the country/world. Locally-owned restaurants can differ in taste from day to day. Some other perks to dining at a local place is the atmosphere. Odds are, the owners are much more involved in their own restaurants, than some manager would be about a chain they're not even really involved in. Locally-owned restaurant owners understand that every customer counts, and they are definitely more apt to remember your name, your drink, and what you typically like to eat. Certain chain restaurants are delicious, but they are corporate entities with no face to identify with. Locally-owned restaurants are usually staffed with good, hard-working people, who truly understand that the customer comes first. Oh, and the last perk of a locally-owned restaurant...if you wanna buy your proficient waitress a drink after her shift, there is no corporate rule prohibiting it...just a thought for the next time you go out, hehehe.
If you are traveling, pay attention to the parking lots. Are a lot of locals at the Applebee's in the center of town, or are they on the outskirts of town in a little cafe with a studdering neon light? Locals can usualy tell you a lot about a place.

Top Ten Reasons UNK Parking is Better than Dating

OK....so my teacher Double Dog Dared me to write about UNK parking. I loathe writing and reading about UNK parking just about as much as I loathe reading anything (ever) written about dating. So, with a little Letterman in me, I decided that you two most over-written about cliches should be grouped together in this handy-dandy countdown.

10) The UNK campus parking lots are always so packed that you know who's been there directly before you.

9) A parking spot is either available or unavailabe. There are no parking spots with benefits, or "open-ended" parking spots.

8) If someone takes your spot, there is no need to take down facebook pictures or go on a 10-day drinking binge ending with you crying in your spot's mom's front yard.

7) Rather than burning a hole in your pocket eating out evenings, you are burning calories, mornings, walking to class.

6) There is never a need to pretend that you like the parking spots that are surrounding your spot.

5) 30-minute spots are honest with their commitment issues from the get-go.

4) The UNK parking lot is equal-opportunity. It doesn't care that you drive your dad's 1991 green Ford Taurus, or that you work at a fast-food joint.

3) Parking spots have no objection if you rotate between them and the one next to them every other day.

2) The UNK parking lot is small enough that everyone has parked here or there at least once, and we all know this, but unlike dating, no one seems to mind.

And the number one reason that UNK parking is better than dating.....(drumroll).....

1) It costs you $60, once a year, and you are promised (in writing) exactly what you are going to get. Enough said.