Last Train from Overbrook

 

 

I love this tune from James Moody. It’s bright, bouncy and surprising. This is just three minutes of fun. I don’t know anything about the history of the song or the place called Overbrook (although I think Wilt Chamberlain went to an Overbrook High) or even James Moody himself.  The music has always caused me to envision this track as a celebration of an amazing night out. Moody takes the last train because you’d want to linger as much as possible on a night like this one!

 

The title though brought to mind something entirely different though, likely caused by the demise of Central State Hospital near the West Indianapolis neighborhood my grandparents lived in for decades. I began contemplating what it might mean to be on the last train from a place called Overbrook that had a purpose similar to that of Central State; caring for people battling mentally illness.  

 

This poem is the result.

 

                                                                    

The Last Train from Overbrook

 

 

The last train from Overbrook is leaving today

I suppose it’s about time

But this has come to feel like home to me

 

My tiny windows give me just enough light

To see the stream across the bridge;

This really is a gorgeous view

I know that Dr. Baylor was right, now

Rest and some down time made the difference

Thankfully everything is fine

 

This winter will be wonderful

I already can sense it, now that I’m well

The snowy days will be peaceful

With laughing kids reminding me of my own childhood

Not like last year’s taunting jeers

 

And Christmas, wow,

I can’t wait for Christmas

Even though I won’t buy any presents

It will still be thrilling

Maybe I’ll go out some night

Just looking at the store windows and houses

Decked out so lavishly

 

My apartment will be nice

With so many little things that I like

Some books, my pipe

Maybe a couple pictures too

Not the sad kind that make me feel lonely

But happy laughing photos

Filling frames and space

Some with people I used to know

 

The last train from Overbrook is leaving today

I know it’s just about time

To trade a home for home

 

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2014

 

 

Ferguson and Jake

 

Today, I'm glad my son is White.

 

That’s a phrase I never thought I’d write. In part, that’s because I identify so much with Black culture and Black history. It’s also in part because, as a Black man, raising a White boy is extremely complicated.

 

Please understand, life at home is as simple as can be expected with a teenager. I’m incredibly fortunate that Jake is a wonderful young man. But life out in the world is filled with constant reminders that our family is jarring to others.

 

We’re jarring to servers who felt they needed to ask ‘everything on one check?’ even when Jake was in elementary school. We’re jarring at the bank when the teller needs ‘help from a manager’ to authorize Jake cashing a birthday check from a grandparent. We’ve been jarring at the mall, convenience store, park or any of the other dozen times I wondered if someone were ready to put out an Amber alert, fearing for Jake’s safety because he was with me. We were jarring the time I got pulled over and very aggressively harassed because a cop saw Jake sitting in my backseat while we drove through a White neighborhood.  Jake’s Whiteness has been a consistent hassle.

 

In one important respect though, Jake’s Whiteness has been a real blessing: I've never given him THE TALK. Of course we've had the sex talk because I’m the responsible dad of a teen. But we've never had the cop talk. Some of you know about the cop talk. That’s the one when young people of color learn the dos and don’ts of interacting with the police. They learn what kinds of behaviors to change, which places should be avoided and what poses to assume. My son doesn’t need to know any of that. If anything, I would say that Jake is wary of the police because of how they've treated me but he doesn't live in any real fear of the cops. And I'm so glad he doesn't have to.

 

Jake will get the automatic benefit of the doubt when it comes to cops. That reality makes a huge difference in my life and the last few days in Ferguson has made that more clear than ever. His inherent (wait for it…) White privilege means that when I'm worried for my son’s safety it's about driving or alcohol or sex. At root, I worry about Jake having a problem based on something of his own doing, having trouble because of a choice he makes. I worry just because he’s my kid.  

 

But I don’t have to worry about Jake being in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong skin. I don’t have to worry that he’ll be Mike Brown or Amadou Diallo or Ezell Ford or Eric Garner or Sean Bell or any of the murdered others. I don’t have to worry that someone with a badge might decide to kill my son.

 

Today, I'm glad my son is White.

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2014

 

 

 

 

Starting Anew

 

Today was the first day of a new school year. Well, kinda. It was my first day back but kids don’t return till Tuesday[i]. Returning always elicits lots of different reactions but for me the core element is a sense of opportunity. I get another chance to do things better.

 

With each new year, I get another chance to try entirely new things in the classroom. I get another chance to learn from my students and colleagues. I get another chance to live a better life in a meaningful way doing meaningful work. It sounds hokey but it's true.  

 

That truth is the reason that every time I get nervous about paying bills or (not really) saving for college or driving a car that’s almost old enough to drive itself, my wife Rachel reminds me what my work life really means. And somehow, that’s more than enough. Always.

 

Even on the first day of school.

 

FDO
 

[i] Keep it down now, voices carry.

Happy Ending

I had a happy ending to my summer.

 

Since I teach high school I have a wonderfully extended summer break. During the doldrums of February thinking about summer break is sometimes the only thing that gets me out of bed. (Do I hear an amen, teachers?) Even though today is August 6, it’s the end of my summer break. In Indiana that means I’m at a late start school. Nearly everyone else has been back for a week already. I wanted to squeeze the last bit of fun out of my last summer day.

 

Okay, on to the reason I’m writing this. This summer I’ve spent lots of time playing basketball. I’m a basketball junkie to the nth degree and nothing is quite as fun as being on the court myself. I had one of those catastrophic Bernard King[1] knee injuries a few summers ago and was convinced for quite some time that if I ever played basketball again it would be super casual, probably just some shooting games. HA! My family doctor insisted that I should play as quickly, as much and aggressively as I could. I’ve done my best but it’s been a very long process. I could say that I’ve taken lots of Baby Steps[2] in that effort.

 

For a while I only played indoors on wood courts. That was a hassle and got expensive quickly. It was also infrequent enough not to be very helpful. I moved on to concrete with great trepidation meaning (deep sigh) almost exclusively to the court <5 minutes from my house where I suffered the initial injury. Month after month, I played sporadic halfcourt games with my giant knee brace on. Every time I got jostled or tried to jump or sprint dig in for a loose ball, my heart jumped into my throat.

 

Slowly I gained a bit more confidence and became to willing to run fullcourt games. Always with the giant brace, usually avoiding a full sprint and often mentioning my injury out loud just so everyone would know.

 

Now this summer I’ve moved dramatically from fear to fun. My 16 year old son and I went to the local park to play this afternoon and were joined by some other high school kids and a couple 20 somethings. I usually wear my brace if there’s a chance a real game will happen but today guys seemed to appear out of nowhere so I wasn’t prepped like usual.  No brace.

 

I was guarded by a very physical guy who knocked me down multiple times. Once, he hit me so hard that I went sprawling to the ground, play stopped, my defender apologized and everyone came to check on me. It was so nice to realize that they were more worried about me than I was worried about myself. As soon as I got up, I teasingly declared that I was an obvious target because I wasn’t wearing my knee brace today. Everyone understood I was joking and started laughing. Even six months ago I couldn’t have imagined this kind of tumble serving as a tension breaker but it was. And it worked. The game resumed normally.

 

And the happy ending? After playing several games I announced that I only had one more left in my legs so half a dozen of us played 21. I was astonishing! I made lots of difficult shots, rebounded really well and dominated the game. I think the next highest score was 8. Playground 21 isn’t exactly known for Tom Thibodeau[3] defense but nobody likes being dominated. It was definitely the best I’ve played in years and happened at exactly the end point of the summer. Nice.

 

Then I drove home while Jake hung out and played for an extra hour. And there’s the difference between 40 and 16…  

 

FDO

[1] Okay, Derrick Rose. I can do 21st century references…

[2] ™Leo Marvin

[3] He’s the best defensive coach in the NBA.

Blackface

  

The face in the mirror

Is black

Not brown or cocoa

Or anything else

The too nice people

Might try to tell me

Since it’s about opposition

 

And the power of Whiteness

The power they validate

By denying it exists

Comes only because I am

And must continue to be

Black

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2002

 

 

Resurrection Day

This is a poem from Myths that was originally written a couple years earlier. Some important things in my life have changed since then but others have become constants. Now, as always, I hope my mom was right.

FDO

Today is Easter

The Sunday of the Resurrection

And I’ve been told all day

In large ways and small

That I need to believe

 

I need to believe for myself

And I need to believe for her

For my mother who is now dead

In my eyes at least

If not in God’s

 

For me it’s still too hard

Since I’ve never been a joiner

And faith is a virtue

That eludes me

 

Sometimes I wish

I could share her spirit

The optimism

The joy, the laughter

(Oh, so much laughter)

 

I still can’t embrace it

Not yet at least

Because I just don’t know

Whether to laugh myself

Or to cry

 

Between her abiding faith

And my utter lack of it

May lie the truth

But I don’t think so

One of us is totally right

 

I hope it’s her

 

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2009

A poem by Franklin Oliver

 

 

Hump Day Hoops- First Round Predictions

 

Okay, not enough time this morning to write out a full fledged analysis. I like off days too much.

 

Here's the bottom line: First Round Predictions

 

Rockets in 5

Clippers in 7

Mavericks in 6

Grizzlies in 6

 

Wizards in 6

Nets in 7

Heat in 5

Pacers in 5

 

© Gayle Force Press 2014

 

 

Hump Day Hoops- Regular Season Wrap

 

Everyone’s been talking about the Eastern ‘race’ for the #1 seed and homecourt advantage through the conference playoffs so I’ll get off the soapbox I was on last week. Since the playoff slots won’t be finalized until tomorrow, I won’t make specific playoff predictions until Friday so check the homepage then!

 

Today, I want to talk about regular season accolades. In a couple weeks, I’ll detail my plan for transforming NBA awards but for now let’s just look at the ones soon to be added to mantles across the country.

 

 

MVP

Kevin Durant

Yes, LeBron James is the best player in the world. Yes, Kevin Durant had a better season. Even Bron said as much.

 

Sixth Man

Taj Gibson

Taj has been the second best player on a very impressive team. Sixth Man is his role and he’s played it masterfully this year.

 

Coach of the Year

Jeff Hornacek

I thought the Suns would win fewer than twenty games this year. Instead, they’re the best ever team to miss the playoffs. Hornacek is Polish for ‘Miracle Worker’.

 

Rookie of the Year

Victor Oladipo

Nearly by default, Oladipo’s energy, drive and consistency helped make him one of Orlando’s real bright spots in a dismal year.

 

Defenisve Player of the Year

Roy Hibbert

Lots of folks have assumed that because Hibbert’s scoring and rebounding have fallen off his defense has too. Not the case. He’s the best rim protector in the league, the best lane protector and the anchor for the league’s best defensive unit.

 

All-NBA First Team

LeBron James

Kevin Durant

Dwight Howard

Stephen Curry

James Harden

 

It’s hard to imagine much dispute with this team. Triple doubles have become Joakim Noah’s specialty but Dwight Howard’s again the premier interior force in the league. I’d argue that he’s become 1991 era Hakeem Olajuwon in that their domination is so consistent we’ve become a bit bored by it. Howard deserves this spot.

 

 

Second Team

Blake Griffin

Kevin Love

Joakim Noah

Chris Paul

Goran Dragic

 

Love has become underrated. I don’t know how his stat lines get ignored so regularly but they do. When you shoot like Dirk Nowitzki and rebound like Moses Malone, you’re a special dude.

I also recognize that lots of folks have Chris Paul on first team because he’s the best point guard in the world. That makes sense except that he missed lots of games.

If I were distinguishing, I might have Dragic ahead of Paul on the scorecards. That’s how impressive his season was.

 

Third Team

Paul George

LaMarcus Aldridge

Al Jefferson

Kyle Lowry

Mike Conley

 

Paul George had half a year of being one of the 5 best players in the world and half a year of being one of the top 15. His all-court game is astonishing. There’s a decent chance that next year he’ll be the third best player in the world.

Al Jefferson has always been underrated. All I know is that without him, Charlotte would have been battling Milwaukee and Philadelphia, not Washington and Brooklyn.

North of the border means you get ignored. An argument could be made for putting Lowry above Paul. I won’t make it but I’d consider it.

Mike Conley is the little engine that could. I expected more than a dozen point guards to have better seasons than Conley. What I didn’t expect was him to become an offensive catalyst and defensive stopper. Astonishing.

 

 

Astonishing is a great word to describe this season. From climbers like the Trail Blazers, Pacers and Bobcats to meteors like the Suns and Raptors to disasters like the Lakers and Knicks, this regular season has been filled with surprises, storylines and excitement galore. And on Friday…  We get to talk about the playoffs!!

 

 

 

Franklin Oliver

 

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2014