Disconnections

Sometimes we have to disconnect to reconnect.

In early September, I spent a week camping, canoeing, and fishing in Canada's Quetico Provincial Park, which is due north of Minnesota and consists of 2 million acres of lakes, trails, and streams.

And no motors.  Which means that if you are in Quetico, you got there under your own power.    With lakes everywhere, canoes are the only practical form of transportation.

Imagine a place where there are no roads, no vehicles...where the only sounds you hear are those made by nature and each other. 

A place for listening to loons, whose call is beautiful yet haunting.  Making new friends.  The simple joy of paddling.  Camping, cooking, and sitting by the fire.

Have you ever gazed at a night sky when the nearest artificial light might be 30 miles away?  The stars are so bright you can reach out and touch them.  I would often awake in the middle of the night, when the moon had set, and see more stars than you can count in a lifetime.

Solitude so absolute it could be disconcerting.  Isolation so deep it can both enhance the experience and scare the beejeebuss out of you. 

It is a fisherman's paradise but lest you think this kind of trip is for everybody, let me tell you about a little thing called "portages."  On a portage, you pick up everything you brought and carry it between the lakes.

Often through mud bogs, across fallen logs, and up steep hills, all while traversing fields of rocks.  On one memorable trail, I sunk up to my hip in mud with a canoe and a backpack on my shoulders.  It probably took 20 minutes to dig me out.

Did I tell you there was no electricity, no running water, and no "facilities?"  With that said, I'd do it again in a minute.  It was wonderful and amazing and breathtaking.

But before you go, you've got to disconnect.   Disconnect from the internet, turn off your cell phone, and tell your family that they won't see you or hear from you for a while.

At first, it's strange.  For the first couple of days, I felt for that familiar buzz on my right hip that indicates a message or call coming in on my cell phone.  I was sure there was an e-mail that required my immediate attention or an important decision that needed my input. 

But about the 3rd day, the wilderness started working its magic.  I forgot about meetings, appointments, and alarm clocks.  Frustrations?  Gone.  Problems?  On vacation.  When day-to-day existence is reduced to the very basics, you start to appreciate what is really important.

Like family and home and good food and toilets.  I'm glad I went.  I'm glad I'm home.

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National Physical Therapy Month

I am both a physical therapist and an athletic trainer.   Maybe you knew that already. 

I spend my days in the where I have my physical therapist hat on most of the time.  I've been practicing (now that's a strange use of the word) physical therapy for almost 34 years now and I really don't have any plans to do anything else anytime soon.  Retirement is for somebody else--somebody that doesn't enjoy their work as much as I do.

I am still thrilled to walk into the room of someone I might not know, examine them, decide how I as a physical therapist might help them, and then set into place a treatment program.  Part scientist, part teacher, part coach, I am only as good as my ability to get you better. 

October is National Physical Therapy Month and in telling you a bit about me, maybe you will learn more about physical therapy.

I graduated from UT Health Science Center in Memphis in 1977 when it was the only physical therapy program in Tennessee.  There are now four others, Belmont, UT-Chattanooga, ETSU, and Tennessee State University. 

In the late 90's, the entry-level physical therapy degree became the doctoral degree.  In other words, everyone that graduates today receives the Doctor of Physical Therapy (DPT) degree.  In 2008, I got one of those too.  Yes, it's technically Dr. Black now but I usually insist that everyone calls me Joe (yet it usually turns out to be joeblack, one word-the curse of single syllable first and last names). 

There are a lot of specialty areas in physical therapy.  Pediatrics, primarily working with handicapped children.  Neurologic Physical Therapists who work with those having had strokes, spinal cord injuries, or head injuries.

There are those that focus on vestibular problems, balance issues, wounds, TMJ problems, lymphedema and the complications often accompanying cancer and cancer treatment. 

There are inpatient therapists that work in a hospital and outpatient therapists that work in clinics and others that work in home health, schools, skilled nursing facilities, and a variety of other settings.

Our biggest specialty area is orthopedics and even in that there are subspecialties.   I fall into one of those as I have specialized in extremity orthopedics and sports.   My day is pretty much filled with taking care of those with shoulder, knee, foot, and ankle problems.  Many of those are our athletes.

Other Orthopedic Physical Therapists specialize in taking care of those with spinal problems.  Over 31 million Americans will seek health care for low back pain this year.   Physical therapists are at the forefront of taking care of those problems, using exercise, education, and manual techniques based on evidence and research.  

We take care of those with minor sprains and those with catastrophic injuries.  We see people before surgery after surgery, and all the way to their return to full function. 

In a nutshell, physical therapists help you regain the life you want.   A life without disability or dysfunction.

I'm proud to be a physical therapist.  This profession has taken me places and provided me with opportunities that were beyond my wildest dreams.  That and I get to help people get and stay healthier.    

How lucky can one person be?

Politics as usual? I don't think so.

The recent budget crisis in the United States Congress was ugly.   It was partisan politics at its worst.   I saw a political cartoon recently that showed an elephant and a donkey in a little convertible driving straight toward a big transfer truck labeled "budget crisis."   The caption read "so, who's going to blink?"

So then the legislative branch (the House and Senate) and the executive branch (the President) finally got together and reached a compromise in which no one claimed victory.  Oh, they tried to spin it as a victory.  The Republicans feel that the reduced spending was a victory and the Democrats feel that raising the debt ceiling was a victory but hopefully, at the end of the day, the American people are the winners.

I mean, come on folks.   How can we keep spending more money than we take in?   Oh sure, it works for a while.  And then the bills come and sooner or later you've got to pay up.   So you can either spend less than you take in (reduce spending) and slowly pay off your debts or you can increase your income (in this case, raise taxes) and pay off your bills that way.   What the government seems to have done is to do both, which hopefully will work.

 After a fair amount of experience in politics, I can tell you that compromise is a necessary part of the legislative process.   When everybody goes away unhappy, it is likely good legislation.  Keep in mind that we often find completely opposite opinions on nearly every subject.   But instead of both being wrong, both are quite possibly right.  

There is not much "right" and "wrong" in political arguments (just different approaches or different perspectives) but way too much "I'm right, you're wrong."

I spend a lot of time in our state's capitol and I've grown to appreciate the political process at least as it related to a legislative agenda.  But getting legislation passed is like making sausage:  You don't want to watch it being made.   

The Preamble to the Constitution of the United States includes the provision that every citizen has the right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."  I would like to propose legislation that would add that we should have "the pursuit of healthiness." 

I think life, liberty, and happiness are dependent in no small measure to healthiness.  I see very few unhealthy people that are happy. 

I'd like to see legislation passed that requires everybody to eat better (and by better, I mean healthier), to exercise daily, and to lead healthier lifestyles.   At the risk of stepping on individual liberties, I would like to see smoking ended, roads where no one drives impaired, and guns necessary only for recreational purposes.  

I'd like to see a world where no one goes to bed hungry (did you know that 925 million people in the world are hungry today?  And that 16,000 children will die of starvation today?).   I don't believe that "Universal health care" or "socialized medicine" is the answer but I do want to live in a country where the medical needs are provided for those that cannot provide them for themselves.

I wish I had all the answers.  What I do know is that I've never met anybody that didn't want to pursue life, liberty, happiness, or healthiness.   It's just that too many people think that it is their inherent right for somebody else to provide those things.

We don't "deserve" it, we've only got the right to "pursue" it.

Growing up in a small town: 2nd verse

Last week you heard a bit about what it was like to grow up in my hometown.   I guess I romanticized it a bit because it was far from perfect.    It was a very blue collar town so pretty much everybody was in the same socio-economic status.  Nobody had much but we didn't know it.

What I didn't tell you about was that of those guys that I grew up with, one was shot, one died under questionable circumstances but had been in jail on numerous occasions, and one was dead by his late 30's from lifestyle choices.

We grew up in the same place, attended the same churches and schools, played together and stayed together.  Yet, we all ended up on different paths as adults, most good but some obviously bad.

I grew up blessed.  I lived in a 2 parent home.  I never went hungry, I never felt unloved, and I never had to worry that I would have a roof over my head.   I also was never in jail, never failed a subject in school, and got paddled only once (and Mrs. Rainwater was wrong in doing it that time--I can't help it that Gary Alexander pinched Laura Booth behind my back in the 2nd grade!)

But we didn't have a lot.  My dad worked in a factory.  My mom was a stay-at-home mom until my dad became disabled and then she went back to work, ending up in the same factory where my dad had worked.  

It's a different world that kids are growing up in today.  Not better, not worse--just different.  Most of us worked (mowing yards, delivering newspapers, hauling hay) but that was for the necessities.  I can remember the first time I saw one of the rogue boys have a beer.   We didn't have drugs or spending money.   

I'm pretty sure I had good parents.  The only thing I can remember that I wanted that I didn't get was a guitar, but I didn't want much.  At 16, I was happy with a first car that cost $55 ('54 Plymouth, 2 dr, 3 spd on the column, primary color bondo). 

Today it seems like there are too many parents who make sure that their kids have absolutely everything that they want.    Parents that either can't make a decision or who make all the wrong decisions.   Who try to be a friend to their children instead of being a parent. 

Parents who threaten litigation against a coach over playing time.   Or that feel that because of who they are,  their kid should get special attention/opportunities.

Parents that can't get along at home but when a teacher wants to have a conference because of unacceptable behavior from their child, they insist that it is the school's responsibility to take care of those problems.

Parents who want too badly for their kids to have the success in athletics that they never had.  We hear about parents living vicariously through their children until it is simply a cliche. 

My advice?  Make sure your kids know the value of work, drive used cars until they are adults, know that if they get punished at school that it will be worse at home, and that your love is unconditional.  And remember that they got their genes from you.

Coach Pat Summitt

Early onset dementia, Alzheimer’s type.

At the mention of that, I get this picture in my mind of somebody really old and wrinkled.  Maybe stooped over on a walker.   Wisps of hair are all that remain.  A vacant stare.

But Pat Summitt?!?   She of the icy stare.  Pat Summitt--one of the most respected coaches in all of sports?  Pat Summitt, who is categorized with John Wooden as one of the greatest coaches of all time?  

Pat Summitt who could coach anything, anytime, anwhere?   A lot of folks have suggested that she should be the men's basketball coach at UT every time that job came open.  

Heck, I'd give her pretty much any job she wanted.  Athletic Director?  Sure.   CEO?  Any time.   President of the United States?  I'd vote for her.

Her tenacity, her integrity, her dedication, her brains...I could go on and on.   Those things would translate to any job.   I'm not alone in believing she could straighten out Wall Street, Afghanistan, and the NCAA in about a week if they would just put her in charge.

And now we're all concerned because Pat (which is what her players call her---I don't think I could do that), an icon and a legend, has early onset dementia, Alzheimer's type. 

At 59.  Goodness gracious, I'm 58!

Coach Summitt taught tennis to my wife in a Physical Education elective class at UT in 1975.  Back then, she had to teach classes as well as coach basketball.    That seems pretty bizarre now.

So what can we all expect?  

We all know that there is not yet a cure for Alzheimer's.   The very mention of the word scares us, much like the word "cancer" did to another generation.  We know that it is progressive.  And ultimately fatal.

But we all also feel like we know Pat Summitt.   And we all know that she will attack this with the same intensity that is her trademark.  Heck, I stand up straighter just at the mention of her name.

Whatever happens, however this disease affects her, we all know that Pat Summitt will deal with it on her terms, the same way she has always coached.

But as this whole scenario plays out, I betcha several things happen.  I betcha more people will get diagnosed earlier, when more can be done.  I betcha everybody in Tennessee will know more about this disease.  I betcha that there will be more research on this disease than ever before.

And you better not bet against Coach Summitt.

joeblack

Growing up in a small town

I grew up in a small town.  As a matter of fact, I got my first college degree alongside more people than lived in my hometown. 

It was a great place to grow up.  Slower, simpler, safer, almost idyllic.  Summers were my favorite.  I always knew how many days it was until school was out.    I was actually well into college before I liked school.

 Most of my friends lived in town.  I lived "out in the country," about a mile from them.  Most summer mornings, I would get up, have breakfast, and hop my bicycle to head into town.   The basic rule was to be home in time for supper.  

There were a bunch of us kids that would spend pretty much all day, all summer together.   Ronnie, Bill, Teddy, Tony, Gary.   Sometimes joined by Freddie or Lonnie.  We played everything and made up what we didn't know.  We had Boy Scout leaders to teach about the outdoors but we didn't have anybody to teach us about sports.

The city didn't really have a recreation department but they would hire teachers for the summer to do things like crafts and organize games.  Coach Ratledge might organize a game and help us get started but mostly we had neither coaches nor referees.  There was no little league baseball but we would choose sides and play for hours.

For lunch, we would drop by somebody's house and their mother would fix us lunch, usually PB&J.   Granny Miller was a favorite but sometimes she would serve souse meat sandwiches so we looked elsewhere on those days.

There was no public swimming pool so if you wanted to swim you had to go to the river.   Occasionally we would catch a ride in the back of a pickup truck to the next town where they had a public swimming pool but the only reason to do that was the diving board and the girls.

We discovered tennis at about 10.   There were no public tennis courts but there were two private courts.   My buddies and I got the homeowners to agree to let us play if we would sweep the courts when we were finished and not cuss.   I don't think they knew how obsessed we would be with a game that was so far out of our socioeconomic status as to be absurd.

Nobody took lessons for anything and the only organized sport was youth league football (which we all played).  We taught ourselves how to do things.   Our athletic development was more dependent on backyard basketball and Red Rover games.

I look at today's organized leagues and traveling teams for 7 year olds and personal trainers and position coaches and on and on and on and I long for those simpler times. 

Are athletes better today?  No doubt.  But at what price?  Are they enjoying the games and the competition?  

This whole topic started when I asked a couple of young adults what they remembered about the AAU basketball games that they played when they were young.  I was their coach.  Their memories were not the games or the sport or the teams but the travels and the friends.  About the time that we went for ribs at The Rendezvous in Memphis.    About the friends that they made and driving down the interstate singing 80's hits.

My memories are about playing tennis at the Greer's court under the lights and swimming in the Tennessee River, about street football and catching a Pinky Russell curveball.   About Jackie Lefler dribbling between his legs and Gordo Watson outrunning everyone, regardless of distance and even when encumbered by a potato sack or tied to another kid in a 3 leg race.

So what's my point?   Just that sports are all about building memories and they're not always about the games we play nor the outcome of those games.