Page 6 PONOKA NEWS
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Opinion 42 is about lessons By Treena Mielke I took another long, slow swallow of my Diet Coke and shoved a generous handful of popcorn into my mouth, spilling some down the front of my jacket but my eyes never left the screen. I was sitting front row and centre in a darkened movie theatre, completely and utterly happy. I loved this movie. Sports movies. “That’s all you watch, grandma,” my grandson told me the other day. “I do not,” I protested but weakly. So I am watching 42, the movie about Jackie Robinson, the first black guy to don the Brooklyn Dodgers’ uniform and trot out to the field much to the horror of the proper, white, racist crowd. “Go home, nigger,” they yelled, the mob mentality rising with a hot fury that permeated the baseball stands. I have recently been writing about the effects of bullying. How to kill people with words. It’s easy. It’s effective. It’s hatred and poison at the highest level possible. I thought about this as I watched the snapshot, Reader’s Digest version of Jackie Robinson’s early life in professional baseball unfold. Somewhere in the back of my mind where I didn’t want to go, I realize this is the Hollywood version of the man. In real life his beautiful wife may not have gone into a bathroom marked ‘whites only’ in the airport, an action that cost them their tickets. And, I understand Robinson didn’t really break a bat against the dugout wall in utter frustration when the opposing team’s manager heckled him mercilessly when he got up to bat.
But, even if the movie whispered slightly of Hollywood, the message resounding across the years straight from the field of the 1947 Brooklyn Dodgers, came through loud and clear. And while it is difficult to imagine a time when sports writers sat in the stands with typewriters Treena Mielke on their knees, cellphones On The Other Side did not exist and computers were a miracle yet to be invented, the movie reminded us human emotions are as ageless as time itself. Bullying. The year was 1947. Or the year is 2013. It really doesn’t matter. It happened then, it happens now and it will happen again. Why? It seems lots of times, parents teach their kids how it is done. A 10-year-old boy was watching the Brooklyn Dodgers when Robinson first made his debut. He was watching the team but in reality the players were just shadowy figures playing out a scene in a day in the life of his childhood. Mostly, he watched his dad. He wanted to be just like his dad when he grew up. His dad, was, after all his hero. So when his dad yelled to get that nigger off the field,
it is no surprise the kid picked up the message, and his voice, like an echo, played the words back. I reach into my bag of popcorn for another buttery handful and watch baseball history unfold. I hear the staccato sound of the bat connecting with the ball. I watch as the Dodgers themselves, learn less about baseball and more about life, as Robinson becomes one of them both on and off the field. And I feel the pride Robinson has to feel when he dons that uniform with the number 42 on the back for the very first
time. I was born into a family of athletes. I was the least athletic but I was good at imagining and was always optimistic about my possible potential. Lucky for me, somewhere along the way I developed a lifelong love of the game. It seemed I always knew the story of Jackie Robinson. But it was good to hear it again. And to remember how the love of the game is ageless and can rise effortlessly above the barriers of prejudice, racism and hatred. It’s good. It’s a homerun sort of feeling. There’s really nothing like it!
Spring clean up is a family affair Bring on the birds, the bugs, and the buds, because spring has finally arrived (we hope), and who cares if there a few pot holes and puddles in our way. This is that glorious time of the year when the landscape sheds itself of the ice and snow and the biggest smiles appear on the faces of the golfers, the green thumbs, and the young duffers who love to spend all day playing outside in the sunshine and dirt. We can now finally put away the bulky and boring winter wear that we have worn for the past 7 months, and then hopefully we will still be able to squeeze into those sassy shorts and t-shirts that feel real cool. Please don’t forget to tighten up all the nuts and bolts and service all your family bikes and other rolling toys before you put on your helmets and dash out into the fabulous fresh air. Many will choose to wander through their yards, viewing the dull brown aftermath of another winter, while planning how they will transform it all into a lush green wonderland of grass, flowers, and veggies during a month or so of the annual labour of outdoor love. It won’t be long before the first fruits of our efforts will usually be the pesky early crop of quack grass and dandelions, which can quickly be snuffed with a little spray and a hardy hoe-hoe-hoe, and we can only hope that most of the infant mosquitoes have freeze dried or drowned. At this time of the year there will always be that dedicated breed of spring sports fanatics, who will already be out tossing a ball around, on the tennis courts, flying a kite, playing road hockey or tossing hoops, or chipping golf balls on a dry patch in the park, as well
PONOKA
as catching ‘the playoffs.’ Once the well-used snow shovels, blowers, scrapers, ice melt, and all the rest have been put away, your garage will now become a haven for cute little bedding plants and a vast array of primping and gardening tools. There is absolutely no doubt that our great Mike Rainone warmer weather tradition Hammertime has already kicked in with the exciting invasion of the weekend garage sale circuit, where last year’s cast-offs will magically become someone else’s treasure. A salute to the clean-up crews With the arrival of spring it never ceases to amaze me to see all those enthusiastic volunteers of all ages who head out into all areas of our community and districts to clean up all the garbage and mess that winter has left behind. I salute our 4-H Clubs, school children, and the various groups, organizations, families, and individuals who stroll the parks, ditches, and playgrounds together, while filling up thousands of garbage bags with mostly unwanted junk, along with a few recyclable bottles, and maybe even something worthwhile? Keeping our town and county green and clean should be an enjoyable and invigorating family or staff activ-
ity. Most everyone takes a lot of pride in maintaining their own piece of yard paradise or cleaning up around their businesses, but if they can’t there will always be someone who will help them out. Please take special care and yield to the caution signs for those community and highway crews who are out doing the sweeping, mowing, cleanup, and repair that will beatify our surroundings. It is also most vital to always drive carefully, because there will many out there enjoying their first spring fling from dawn until dusk. Some kind of unforgettable love He was a widower and she was a widow, who had known each other for a number of years as class-mates who had stayed in touch and looked forward to attending each and every one of their annual school reunions. It was the 60th Anniversary of their class, and the widower and the widow would make a foursome with two other singles. They had a wonderful evening, their spirits were high, and the widower was constantly throwing admiring glances across the table, and she smiled coyly back at him. Finally, after much thought, he found the courage to ask her, “Will you
marry me?”, and after about six seconds of careful consideration she answered, “Yes-yes-yes, I will.” The evening ended on a very happy note for the widower, but by the next morning he was quite troubled because he couldn’t remember her response to his marriage proposal. After much fear and trepidation the elderly widower picked up the phone and called his special friend. First, he explained that his memory wasn’t as good as it used to be, then finally gaining enough courage, he then cautiously inquired of her, “When I asked you to marry me, did you say yes, or did you say no. The widow paused for a few seconds, then with much joy she replied, “Why you wonderful silly man, I said, Yes-Yes I will, and I meant it with all my heart..” Needless to say the widower was delighted, his heart skipped a beat, and then to make the moment perfect, the widow quietly replied, “I am so glad that you called, because I couldn’t remember who had asked me.” They would live happily together for many years, forgetting a few things once in a while, except that they would always have each other to share the good times. Have a great spring week, all of you.
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