Foremost on my Mind: A Diet of Good Education

Two of the more pressing issues for our children these days are health and education, and not necessarily in that order. Yet for all the body and mind issues we have among our young people, in terms of health and education, this is still one of the best times in history to be alive: There are more options than ever before in both fields.

I speak to both matters personally:

On the health front, I am grateful for great health these past six decades. Much has come from a stay-at-home mother who fed me wisely. And for the past thirty-plus years, my stay-at-home wife who likewise has fed me wisely. Consistent sleeping pattern, regular outside chores, and abstinence of strong drink and drugs and other vices are also factors.

And on the education front, the following comes into play: I have dabbled in public, independent, and home education over these past decades (in terms of my own education, employment, and family life), so I think I bring a measure of balanced perspective to this topic.

So, when I speak of health, this is on the heels of eating vegetables on a regular basis from my own garden, plus all the homegrown chicken, turkey, beef, and eggs that I want. It's not totally free, of course, because there is a lot of grunt work that goes into a vegetable garden and a hobby farm. But the effort my family and I put into raising a huge chunk of our own food is equal to what I would do in a fitness class—sans the muscle shirt. Of course, I think you might need muscles for that.

Spandex with suspenders...no, I don't think so, Maurice.

If more people ate their own food, or at least bought it at a farmer's market, and had a balanced diet. the better off they would be.

Re-stated: Better off “we” all would be, because it does affect all of us. Myriad health and economic issues that come out of sloppy eating habits. Did you get that? Poor dietary habits can lead to hospitalization, loss of work days, lower productivity when at work, disruptive family life—just for starters. (Maurice, I'm starting to feel sick just writing this.)

So I am minding my own business when I sound off on what we eat.

The same goes for education. When I think of the billions of dollars that have been poured into the education industry in Alberta in, say, these last twenty years, I wonder if the investment has been worth it. The equation has been pretty basic: money in, product out. As a parent, a taxpayer, and an educator, I am curious as to how well the investment is working.

To their credit, I must say, Alberta Education has allowed quite a variety of models within its jurisdiction. You name it, it's all here in Alberta: public, independent, home, charter, distance; and then a whole host of specialized schools that I know little or nothing of.

So, it's all about choices these days, no matter where you live and what you need, whether it's health or education. With said options, though it's a glorious point in time for living and and learning, it's actually a sobering time, too.

The parallel is not lost: You want to be very careful what you “dump” into your kids, whether it's food or facts, vitamins or virtues. No responsible parents would perpetually feed their child a diet of fats, sugars, or starches or other detrimental things, would they?

The same goes for education, though many of us perhaps haven't made that connection. Parents are ultimately responsible for the education of their children, and if they choose to hand that off to others, that is their choice and responsibility. If they opt for someone else to assume the primary influence over their child—five to six prime hours everyday, five days a week, and roughly 40 weeks of every year, for twelve years--so be it.

Whether it's the child's body or mind, every responsible parent should make sure that what their kids “feed” on is good for them, as well as right for them. I think one of the reasons many of our young people struggle today with these issues is because such precautions weren't heeded.

If, and I have said this already, they choose to let others teach them, then they should work with those “others”--regularly, positively, and personally. Join PTA's, volunteer at the school, drop in occasionally, support all school functions, and get to know your child's teacher as well as possible.

So, with next week being the start of yet another school year, make sure your children have a lunch kit that's packed with a diet of solid, healthy food. And while you're at it, make sure their minds are likewise packed with a diet of solid, healthy food.

Foremost on my Mind: How Now Brown...Teenager?

Having cows in one shape or another for these past ten years has taught me many things. (Maurice: I know cows come only in one shape, but they may be live or dead, well-fed or well-done.)

I have learned much from my bovine companions. Not that they have tried to teach me, of course. I have dabbled in this business with a willingness to learn, and learn I have—and am still learning. In fact, my motto in this business is “eat and let eat.”

Here are just a few superficial lessons I have learned about cows: One, I wouldn't want their lifestyle; two, I wouldn't want their diet; and three, I wouldn't want their future.

Mind you, they have quite a life: they eat and drink, sleep and poop, but that's about it. When they get really spooked—or maybe just want to party--they break through fences. Chasing them has helped me develop my cardiovascular system somewhat, as well as meet my neighbours, though not under optimum circumstances.

You've read this all before from yours truly, but you haven't read the following: Cows remind me of teenagers. Human teenagers, to be exact.

Wait: Before you flip out, or flip over the page and see if you're in the obit column, please read on.

Answer the following questions: Who has few responsibilities for years? Who likes to hang out in a group, because of a herd mentality? Who likes to eat and eat, then eat some more—all day long? Who can give those responsible for them lots of grief at times, despite their free care and upkeep? And who keeps moving and shifting constantly, restless then resting, but never staying in the same spot for more than five minutes?

If you said cows, you're right. If you said teenagers, you're right again.

I know there are many exceptions to the above, both with cows and teenagers—at least in terms of colour, temperament, and usefulness, in particular—but I think I've nailed it pretty closely.

You rarely see a cow by itself, especially if there are other cows in the same field. There seems to be one alpha cow, and the rest just follow it wherever it goes. The same can be said for teenagers: One dominant figure, and the rest just follow; sometimes that's good, sometimes that's bad.

Lifespan deserves a comment. Cows have a limited lifespan, and shorter if they don't produce. It took me years to get it, though I totally buy into it now. I am slowly learning more and more about this business.

Teens have a limited lifespan, too; that is, they won't always be teens. They will grow up, they will grow up, they will grow up (I need to tell myself that a few times—which I just did.)

I have raised teens (or am raising them)--eight out of nine kids, so far-- for years, and I have taught teens for years in school, so I have a measure of experience in this area. Lots of failure, with some token success at times.

As obviously similar as they are, however, cows and teenagers can actually differ, in case you didn't notice. Possibly some of the readers (like vegans and vegetarians) may not agree, but humanoids are higher on the food chain than bovines—or better, all humans (and that would include teenagers) are higher than all animals.

Or, in the context of this column: teenagers are more advanced, more responsible, more mature than cows.

That may seem obvious to most thinking people, but sometimes the lines are blurred, in particular when it comes to whales, snakes, and burrowing owls. Sometimes it's safer to be a young animal than it is to be a young human—fodder for another column.

Now if there was just some way that we could turn the kids loose in the pasture in the spring, then bring them home in the fall...

Foremost on my Mind: How Slo' Can You Go?

I cannot think of any other sport that I would rather play than—no, wait, let me hold you in suspenders, er, suspense for another line or two. And while I'm at it, I cannot think of any sport that is more gender-friendly, all-Canadian, and wholesome than—no wait, a few more lines, please.

It's a summer game, always involves both sexes, and allows for plenty of babble and dabble, with a touch of rabble. The rules make it a klutz-friendly sport, while at the same time, plenty of opportunity for the jerks, er, jocks to strut their stuff.

I would tabbed it “arch ball,” or “slower-than-molasses-in-January ball”--maybe even “blabber-jabber ball.” It is one of those games that made me even look good betimes, at least in my own mind.

The game, of course, is slow-pitch. Well, that's how I would spell it, if they ever asked me. You will see it spelled “slo-pitch,” and I can live with that.

I had been active in this game for years until I kept putting out and I discovered that I no longer had output. A twist here and a shout there, and my first base playing days were over. One reason I loved hitting home runs was because I could take my time getting around the bases. I was so slow, they took the seventh-inning stretch just to allow me to get home. Even if it was only the fourth inning.

Trouble is, I don't recall ever hitting a homer.

Slo-pitch teams are comprised of ten players: seven guys and three girls. That may seem sexist, though I think it's a reflection of a better era when we treated women with the respect that they deserve.

A recent trip to an area weekend event (the sort of thing we would have seen recently at Burdett and Foremost, as an example) brought this sentiment home to me. I have no idea where the teams were from, or who actually won it all on that Sunday, but I do know one thing: they all had a lot of genuine fun.

(Maurice: that would be the basis for my witty “babble and dabble” comment.)

Over the years I have played against teams that felt they needed their liquor, f-bombs, and racy t-shirts to help them win. Didn't work: They still lost and seemed to have a miserable time doing it. I have played against some of my Mennonite friends (who wouldn't stoop to liquor, f-bombs, and racy t-shirts) throughout the area. Competitive, clean, and good losers.

My favourite team, of course, the one I played on, didn't need liquor, f-bombs, or racy t-shirts to win. We called ourselves the “Badgers,” a fierce, macho aggressive prairie animal. So ill-named for my team. Didn't help us: We could lose very well, even with our cool navy blue t-shirts. And like our Mennonite opponents, we were gracious losers--frequent, gracious losers, I might add.

I appreciated the camaraderie of every game I played in, even if those @#$%&! Coyotes thrashed us regularly.

I think one of the keys to a successful slo-pitch game—or tournament, for that matter—is the pace. Pace, as in the pitch is very slow. You could text home to Momma between the ball leaving the pitcher's hand and floating by the batter's hand. (Maurice, that's where the term “slow...pitch” comes from.)

Another part of that pace is the mercy rule (no more than a certain amount of runs in any given inning, mercifully), thus creating a low-key ambience and a more more relaxed approach to the game. No threat of being massacred by some bulging bicep neanderthal team here.

When someone actually makes it on base, runner and baseman (base-woman?) can be seen nagging, ragging, or bragging—all in good fun, of course. Even between third base and home plate is a safe place, space, and pace: no play at the plate, just a line of commitment.

No community event is complete without a slo-pitch tournament, and indeed, very few leave it out. Recent area weekend celebrations will attest to that.

Makes me want to throw on the runners once again, even if it's to shoot the breeze at first.