borrowed from Tom McInerny
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous ‘yes.’
The professor then produced two Beers from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.
‘Now,’ said the professor as the laughter subsided, ‘I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—-your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—-and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else—-the small stuff.
‘If you put the sand into the jar first,’ he continued, ‘there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life.
If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.
Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.
Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and mow the lawn.
Take care of the golf balls first—-the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.
One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the Beer represented. The professor smiled and said, ‘I’m glad you asked.’ The Beer just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of Beers with a friend.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
John F. Kennedy (1961)
I share this particular speech because it seems we have lost our way. We now are a people envious of others. Our failures are not our fault, but the fault of someone or something that has kept us from being a success. The land of opportunity appears now to be the land of entitlement. If someone else has it, then I'm entitled to it, too. If I can't have it or can't (or won't) earn it, then nobody can have it. We are not in the process of leveling the playing field - we are in the process of eliminating the field altogether.
"Ask Not What Your Country Can Do For You"
John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address, January 20, 1961
We observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom — symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning — signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe — the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans — born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage — and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge — and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United, there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided, there is little we can do — for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new States whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom — and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those peoples in the huts and villages across the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required — not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge — to convert our good words into good deeds — in a new alliance for progress — to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbours know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support — to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective — to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak — and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course — both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew — remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belabouring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms — and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah — to "undo the heavy burdens -. and to let the oppressed go free."
And if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavour, not a new balance of power, but a new world of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first 100 days. Nor will it be finished in the first 1,000 days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than in mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again — not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are — but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation" — a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort?
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shank from this responsibility — I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavour will light our country and all who serve it — and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
"Ask Not What Your Country Can Do For You"
John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address, January 20, 1961
We observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom — symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning — signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe — the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans — born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage — and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge — and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United, there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided, there is little we can do — for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new States whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom — and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those peoples in the huts and villages across the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required — not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge — to convert our good words into good deeds — in a new alliance for progress — to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbours know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support — to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective — to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak — and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course — both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew — remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belabouring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms — and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah — to "undo the heavy burdens -. and to let the oppressed go free."
And if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavour, not a new balance of power, but a new world of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first 100 days. Nor will it be finished in the first 1,000 days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than in mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again — not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are — but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation" — a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort?
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shank from this responsibility — I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavour will light our country and all who serve it — and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
Friday, August 17, 2012
My Book
Did I mention I am taking a stab at writing a book? I started to consider this daunting task many years ago while studying for my graduate degree. I had spent many, many hours on the computer for research papers, when one day it occurred to me how incredibly useful the computer could be.
My dad and his twin brother, Ray, had researched the family history and put together a soft covered manuscript of the McInerny family. As I poured through the pages and photographs, I was left wondering what these people from Ireland were really like. My curiosity was tingled and I wanted to know more. Then I began to think about when my kids were little and the stories I told them about Minnesota. I decided to begin putting the stories to paper.
My goal is not to write a best seller. I will leave that to my more articulate family members. Rather, the purpose of the book is to give my grandchildren and their children a sense of who their grandfather was, other than a name from long ago. I want future generations of McInery's, Koyama's and Ali's to know about Paul D. McInerny the person.
I would hope the book would take a place of comfort in their homes, perhaps next to faded year books or old magazines. The type of book that you would pull from the shelf on a rainy day, blow the dust off the cover and sit down with a cup of tea or coffee. Catch a glimpse of who I was and read a few of my most intimate thoughts and fears.
What started out as a story of my past life soon turned to something of a journal. Someone asked when I would publish my work. I am not ready for that, for I make additions and changes monthly. I feel there is still much to write about. Things that haven't happened, yet. And there are the many photographs to sort through.
I suspect I will publish my book sometime in my 80's. If my time on earth comes unexpectedly before, then it is my hope that my children pick up the pieces and send it to one of the many online publication services and distribute a few copies to family members.
Until then, I shall write on!
My dad and his twin brother, Ray, had researched the family history and put together a soft covered manuscript of the McInerny family. As I poured through the pages and photographs, I was left wondering what these people from Ireland were really like. My curiosity was tingled and I wanted to know more. Then I began to think about when my kids were little and the stories I told them about Minnesota. I decided to begin putting the stories to paper.
My goal is not to write a best seller. I will leave that to my more articulate family members. Rather, the purpose of the book is to give my grandchildren and their children a sense of who their grandfather was, other than a name from long ago. I want future generations of McInery's, Koyama's and Ali's to know about Paul D. McInerny the person.
I would hope the book would take a place of comfort in their homes, perhaps next to faded year books or old magazines. The type of book that you would pull from the shelf on a rainy day, blow the dust off the cover and sit down with a cup of tea or coffee. Catch a glimpse of who I was and read a few of my most intimate thoughts and fears.
What started out as a story of my past life soon turned to something of a journal. Someone asked when I would publish my work. I am not ready for that, for I make additions and changes monthly. I feel there is still much to write about. Things that haven't happened, yet. And there are the many photographs to sort through.
I suspect I will publish my book sometime in my 80's. If my time on earth comes unexpectedly before, then it is my hope that my children pick up the pieces and send it to one of the many online publication services and distribute a few copies to family members.
Until then, I shall write on!
Happy Birthday, Roger Jr.
August 17th, 1950. Roger James McInerny, Jr. was brought into this world at St. Mary's Hospital, Minneapolis, MN. To get a glimpse of what our family, especially Roger, was all about, I would encourage you to read past articles written by a most gifted and articulate journalist, Vivian McInerny. She has written a few articles detailing our wonderful life growing up in Richfield, MN.
From my perspective, I remember Roger as the good and obedient son. The son who did well academically and religiously. He was an alter boy and a choir boy. He had a paper route back in the time when the paperboy delivered the newspaper directly to your home and placed it inside the screen door to keep it from the elements of Minnesota's rain or winter. When the paperboy took a few nights out of the month to go door-to-door to collect the subscription money from the customers.
As young teenagers, Roger and cousin Kim road their bicycles to Winona, Minnesota one summer; alone. Something like that would not even be considered today. Too dangerous, foolhardy. But they were an adventurous pair and ride they did!
Roger went onto college and attended classes faithfully. I never knew what his future plans were or what was his major, but one day he came home an announced he was joining the army. It seems there was an anti-war speaker at the campus who told his audience that a certain segment of the population was doing all the fighting in Vietnam while the rich, white kids from the suburbs stayed home. Roger did not think that was fair and wanted to do his part. While we did indeed live in a suburb of Minneapolis, I guess no one told Roger we weren't rich.
So he enlisted. A month later I too enlisted. I cannot speak for Rog, but I was very, very naive. "My country, right or wrong." "My country - love it or leave it." The slogans of the patriotic conservatives. We had to prevent the domino theory from becoming reality in South East Asia.
April 1, 1970, 2 weeks after he had arrived in Vietnam, Roger Jr., was killed in a orchestrated attack on Firebase Illingworth. He received the Silver Star, the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart in the worst way possible: posthumously.
Today, I remember the older brother that I played baseball with and built forts in the dirt field behind Kenny Harwood's house. I want to remember playing touch football at Centennial School and riding our bikes by Minnehaha Falls and the Mississippi River, over the Ford Bridge and into St. Paul.
I want to wonder, too, what Roger would have looked like at age 62. I wonder about his kids and grandkids. I wonder, as I quite often do - why Roger?
But most of all, I just want to wish Roger Jr. a most happy birthday and to let him know we all remember him!
Happy Birthday, Roger Jr.
From my perspective, I remember Roger as the good and obedient son. The son who did well academically and religiously. He was an alter boy and a choir boy. He had a paper route back in the time when the paperboy delivered the newspaper directly to your home and placed it inside the screen door to keep it from the elements of Minnesota's rain or winter. When the paperboy took a few nights out of the month to go door-to-door to collect the subscription money from the customers.
As young teenagers, Roger and cousin Kim road their bicycles to Winona, Minnesota one summer; alone. Something like that would not even be considered today. Too dangerous, foolhardy. But they were an adventurous pair and ride they did!
Roger went onto college and attended classes faithfully. I never knew what his future plans were or what was his major, but one day he came home an announced he was joining the army. It seems there was an anti-war speaker at the campus who told his audience that a certain segment of the population was doing all the fighting in Vietnam while the rich, white kids from the suburbs stayed home. Roger did not think that was fair and wanted to do his part. While we did indeed live in a suburb of Minneapolis, I guess no one told Roger we weren't rich.
So he enlisted. A month later I too enlisted. I cannot speak for Rog, but I was very, very naive. "My country, right or wrong." "My country - love it or leave it." The slogans of the patriotic conservatives. We had to prevent the domino theory from becoming reality in South East Asia.
April 1, 1970, 2 weeks after he had arrived in Vietnam, Roger Jr., was killed in a orchestrated attack on Firebase Illingworth. He received the Silver Star, the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart in the worst way possible: posthumously.
Today, I remember the older brother that I played baseball with and built forts in the dirt field behind Kenny Harwood's house. I want to remember playing touch football at Centennial School and riding our bikes by Minnehaha Falls and the Mississippi River, over the Ford Bridge and into St. Paul.
I want to wonder, too, what Roger would have looked like at age 62. I wonder about his kids and grandkids. I wonder, as I quite often do - why Roger?
But most of all, I just want to wish Roger Jr. a most happy birthday and to let him know we all remember him!
Happy Birthday, Roger Jr.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
I'm Back
It is too hot out so I decided to browse through my computer and clean it out when I came across my Blog. Like the portals of my mind, my Blog has grown stagnant and old articles, opinions and stories sit like moss on a damp log. It is time for a new entry.
Life is good. I am relatively healthy albeit a tad pudgy and what is with the white hair?! When I look into the mirror for my morning shave, I am still not convinced that the person staring back at me is actually me.
Photographs are an interesting means of nostalgia. I have looked back on the days when Brian, Jenna and Meghan were my little babies. Today, Brian has four girls, Jenna has a boy and girl and my baby, Meghan, is pregnant with her first child. While my Blog suffered writers malnutrition, Meghan married her high school sweetheart.
We had the good fortune to spend 5 weeks in Europe a few years ago. It was incredible to actually see the sites that until then were only photographs in a travel guide or history book. Rome, Italy, Ireland, France and England. We will be going back in 2014, but this time we will visit Eastern Europe.
I bought a 2005, Harley-Davidson, Road King Classic. Can't really call it a mid-life crisis at my age, but I just had the overwhelming urge to ride again. It felt good. It felt powerful. It felt natural. Been riding up and down PCH and enjoying the ocean view while keeping a wary eye out for people who like to turn left in front of motorcycles.
Life is good. I am relatively healthy albeit a tad pudgy and what is with the white hair?! When I look into the mirror for my morning shave, I am still not convinced that the person staring back at me is actually me.
Photographs are an interesting means of nostalgia. I have looked back on the days when Brian, Jenna and Meghan were my little babies. Today, Brian has four girls, Jenna has a boy and girl and my baby, Meghan, is pregnant with her first child. While my Blog suffered writers malnutrition, Meghan married her high school sweetheart.
We had the good fortune to spend 5 weeks in Europe a few years ago. It was incredible to actually see the sites that until then were only photographs in a travel guide or history book. Rome, Italy, Ireland, France and England. We will be going back in 2014, but this time we will visit Eastern Europe.
I bought a 2005, Harley-Davidson, Road King Classic. Can't really call it a mid-life crisis at my age, but I just had the overwhelming urge to ride again. It felt good. It felt powerful. It felt natural. Been riding up and down PCH and enjoying the ocean view while keeping a wary eye out for people who like to turn left in front of motorcycles.
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