A tale of two speeches

It was the best of speeches, it was the worst of speech…no, I’ll leave that cliché alone today. It was a good speech, or presentation if you will. But it ended up with an unexpected twist when I was mingling with some of those still around as we wrapped up the evening.

Over the last few weeks there have been a number of things to remind me that people, whether they expect it or not, react differently to the same stimulus. I’d say I’ve read 4 or 5 blog posts, one journal article, an online article, and even had a discussion with my daughter after a retreat she had last week about it, so I certainly should have expected it. People see things differently. Nothing wrong with that.

The program I had just finished was one I’d written similarly here if you want to get the gist of what I had said that evening. The intro was different. I had couched the events comparing miracles to long shots, using the current billion dollar MegaMillion jackpot as the definition of long shot. I started with “Yes, I bought my ticket. Oh I know the odds are astronomical but I’ve faced longer odds than that and won. On, no. Not a cash jackpot. I hit it big in the miracle lottery!” and from there described my journey from secular “guy grabbing with both hands” to true believer in the power of prayer and that miracles do happen (although it is our job to figure out why), in four brushes with death over a span 20 years.

As usual, the after-crowd included those stopping by to say things like “You’re so brave to tell your story like that.” (Not really, it’s not like the audience was made up of grizzly bears, just other people). “Wow, so inspiring!” (Thank you.) “Did you ever just want to give up?” (Hmm, no, I never did even though I knew things were going to be different no matter how they turned out.) And “I want to thank you for talking about prayer here, here, not in a church. I just discovered a few months ago what I was missing. Faith. Believing in something. You don’t see that out in public. It meant a lot to me to see you put your faith out there for everyone to see.” (Wow. That’s the one I didn’t expect.)

I expected to give an inspirational speech, one saying that you are never alone, you ask for help from whom you know will stand by you wherever you find your helpers. He heard a motivational speech, one that told him that you can be the person you are meant to be no matter where and with whom you are.

Two speeches out of one set of words? Maybe four speeches: one of strength, one of hope, one of inspiration, one of motivation. In truth, one speech for everyone present plus one for me. Everyone hearing the same words and taking from it what they need to hear, what their mind, soul, spirit, or heart wants to take from it. For me, whatever I need at the moment: confirmation, validation, acceptance, fulfilling a promise. I’ve often said you write for yourself and you speak for yourself. What your reader or listener hears are more than the words, but the message they need at the moment.

Yes, it was the best of speeches, and we’ll leave it at that.


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The Boo Birds of Paradise

Major League Baseball begins games that count shortly.  The MLB is a hotbed for Boo Birds.  Baseball is a natural for fans who want to show their displeasure with an opposing player doing particularly well.  Sometimes for a home player not doing so well.  All that time between pitches, as the batter steps to the box, as the first baseman plays with his glove, or as the catcher stretches his calves are made to order opportunities for expressing displeasure.

We thought about boos and booing during a recent somewhat faster sports offering – a hockey game.  There’s not much downtime in hockey.  When a particularly egregious act results in a visiting player being sent to the penalty box there will be a few moments for the home crowd to whistle up the boos.  But for the most part, if you’re going to boo in hockey you have to be ready at any instant.

(We’re not so certain about football.  Football moves a little slow for us so we’ve not been to many live games and booing at a television set is about as lame as whatever the player being booed did to get booed.  In any case, we’re not going to the gridirons today.)

Ok, now you’re really wondering, where are these two going with this.  We think it was She of We who asked during a particularly healthy boo session during a quick stop in action at a hockey game last week, why do people think booing is impolite.   It is just as called for as expressing pleasure with wild shouts of approval.  After all, we are talking about a sports event.  Those guys skating up and down a couple hundred feet of thin ice at speeds approaching a hybrid SUV on the Interstate aren’t known for their manners.  They’re a tough crowd and those watching them can be just as tough.  The well-placed boo can have a dramatic effect on the momentum of the game as much as crazed cheering.  If a crowd is really going to be the sixth man on the ice then it better learn to play both ways.  You have to have a balanced attack of offense and defense if you expect to win.  Cheers and jeers are the fans balance.

With all that said we want to make certain that nobody takes displeasure cavalierly into other arenas.  Regardless of how poorly the leading man at the local community theater resembles the suave movie star in the adaptation and even if his singing doesn’t have the range of a professional vocalist, you should never boo your brother-in-law.  When the lady at the local council meeting questions why there are so many handicapped spots at the borough building when she knows everybody in town and none of them can’t walk, keep those catcalls to yourself.  And when your boss doesn’t appreciate you as much as you appreciate you during your annual performance appraisal, you might want to restrain from public heckling.

Other than those, if you see something you don’t like, knock yourself out.  Boo, hiss, jeer, and hoot to your heart’s content.  Baseball’s just around the corner.  The Stanley Cup playoffs aren’t far behind.  And don’t forget, the World Cup opens in June.  Now there are some high flying boo birds!

Now, that’s what we think. Really. How ‘bout you?