The View From My Bench

Picking Up Other People's ****

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 21:14:00 +0000

Another glorious, "I can wear shorts," day as I walk to my bench. I try to feel the pain of those suffering freezing cold temps across the country, but it is hard to do as I sit on my bench basking in 70 plus degree sunshine.

While I sit on my bench quite a few dog walkers pass by. It is always fun to compare dogs with their owners. What does someone's dog choice say about them? Of course the variety of dogs and owners is unlimited, every shape and size. Funny isn't it that you never see someone walking a cat. Which brings me to my real subject: dog ****.

The park has signs telling "pet owners" exactly what they can do with their dog's ****. Yet, some people don't get the message or most likely refuse to get it! You can tell I am a bit upset about this lack of common courtesy. That's when it happened.

A gentleman (you will see why I use that word) comes walking by with his dog and the dog stops and I don't have to go into detail on what the dog does. The gentleman pulls out a plastic bag and cleans up after his pet. But then an amazing thing happens this gentleman pulls out another plastic bag and cleans up another pet's mess left by a inconsiderate, waste littering idiot!

As the gentleman continued his walk I thanked him for his good deed. "I always bring an extra plastic bag to help keep the park clean," he responded.

Praise God for the "gentle" people that make our world a better place because they are willing to clean up other people's ****.

Tim

Humans and Dogs Respond to Rewards

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 04:22:00 +0000

Halfway through my walk, as many of you know, I pause to sit on "my bench." The other day as I was resting on the bench I looked across to the Middle School and noticed a dog obedience class was being held in the playground. I thought it interesting that dogs were being trained at the same place 7th and 8th-graders have classes.

The pet owners with a direct and firm voice asked their dogs to perform a behavior and then rewarded them when the behavior was done correctly.

It raised a question in my mind: do humans respond to rewards like dogs? So I did what any 21st Century person would do I Googled the question. I discovered the "Dog Behavior Blog" authored by Dr. Con Slobodchikoff, President and CEO of Animal Communications, Ltd. In his January 2, 2009 blog, "How Dog Training Imitates Life," he says the same qualities; clarity of communications, trust, rewards, and social interaction affect the behavior of humans and dogs.

The greatest and most effective reward? Love. (You thought it was food didn't you!) It is amazing what dogs and humans will do for love.

Tim

Don't Stop Moving!

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Sun, 25 Jan 2009 16:00:00 +0000

Not long ago as I basked in the sun sitting on my bench an elderly gentleman walked over and sat down beside me. At first I simply looked straight ahead and continued my "reflection." Finally I turned to look at my "bench mate." Then I realized I knew this man. He was the father of a good friend visiting from the East Coast. We recognized each other at the same time. After exchanging greetings and talking about the weather I asked him the secret of his longevity (he is 95). "Don't stop moving," he quickly quipped.

I was reminded of his words last week. A seventy-something friend and I had to go to the bank to take care of some financial business. I picked her up in my VW Van and she climbed into the passenger seat with great agility. When I asked her the secret of her physical strength she echoed those same words, "Don't stop moving."

When we stop moving we stop growing. When we stop moving we stop hoping. When we stop moving we stop living.

Get Up. Get Going. DON'T STOP MOVING!

Tim

"Fifteen Two, Fifteen Four, Fifteen Six..."

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 19:06:00 +0000

...those words spoken with great inflection and enthusiasm are the words of my Grandfather recorded nearly 40 years ago. You see, I attended boarding schools for six years--from high school to college--and during several of those years my dad and I exchanged cassette taped letters.

Recently I purchased a cassette player that allows me to convert those tapes to MP3 files. It has been a long time since I dusted off those old tapes and listened to them. I am sitting here on my bench listening to those wonderful voices on my iPod.

Sometimes my Dad would take the recorder to my Grandparent's home and let them talk or in the case of the tape quoted simply let it run during a heated game of Cribbage. My Grandmother can be heard in the background during the game declaring, "Tim doesn't want to hear you two playing Cribbage!"

Grandpa was a avid Cribbage player. When I was in Junior High School I used to drop by after school and Grandpa would teach me the fine points of Cribbage playing. How to combine the right cards, play your hand in the right order, and throw those cards down with a flourish!

How wrong you were Grandma. I treasure hearing those simple everyday voices. Voices that no longer can be heard on this earth. They are all gone now. I miss them.

Listen to the voices of the ones you love, while you can still hear them.

Tim

The Thanksgiving Family Baseball Game!

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 23:23:00 +0000

Mom's on first, Uncle Ken is on second, Cousin Tom is on third and Gandpa is at home plate. I am watching it all unfold from my park bench on Thanksgiving morning.

When I walked by the field on my way to the bench I asked one of the players what was going on and he informed me it was the "annual thanksgiving family baseball game."

As I watched from my park bench I counted 20 family members on two teams. Each player brought varying levels of skill to the game, but one thing seemed clear they were all having a good time. The game mixed genders and generations. Each unique family personality brought their own style to the game. Some family members were intense, others mellow, and clearly a few couldn't tell one end of the bat from the other!

What a great idea. Instead of siting around staring at each other or the boob tube (TV) they were doing something. Engaged, interactive, moving, working together, having fun, laughing, encouraging, and creating another family memory in the string of annual Thanksgiving Family Baseball Games.

It's not too late. Why not this Christmas get off your blessed assurance and do something active? Create the First Annual Family _________________________.

Just think if you have the chance to strike out or tackle a family member there might be less tension around the dinner table!

Tim

How Many Times Does It Take To Get It Right?

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Wed, 14 Nov 2007 17:18:00 +0000

Sitting on my park bench I was enjoying the sunshine and fresh air when I noticed that a mother and two young daughters, carrying baseball equipment, entered the empty baseball field.

Soon mom was putting her daughters through throwing, hitting, catching and pitching practice. It was intense. One daughter even broke down in tears. "Don't be such a crybaby," I heard the mom exclaim.

While the older daughter wiped her tears the younger daughter was on the pitching mound, throwing pitch after pitch to her mother. "When can we quit," the young pitcher asked. "When you get it right," her mother replied. The mother's response resulted in wild and wayward pitches and the practice ended with a frustrated mother and two angry daughters.

Parents who demand perfection get bitter children who often grow up to become anxious insecure adults.

Tim

The Challenge of Turning Circles Around a Square

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 16:44:00 +0000

What a glorious day it was as I walked to my park bench. The light rain cleared the air of smoke from the recent fires and I could finally breath deeply. The tennis courts were empty, the ball fields silent, and the middle school play ground seemed to be resting between recesses.

As I sat down on my bench the quiet did not last long. There appeared on the baseball field in front of me a large tractor smoothing the infield. The driver was doing a great job until he came to the bases. He kept making circles around the square bases. No matter how hard he tried or how close he got to the bases he always left a rim of dirt around the square bases. He did not want to get off his tractor and move the bases and so around and around he went and the more times he circled the worse it got.

It occured to me that you cannot cut corners when circling a square base. How often do we keep circling hoping that somehow it will be different this time, unwilling to get off the tractor and move the base!

"Every prudent person acts with knowledge, but a fool lays open their folly." Proverbs 13:16 NKJV

Tim

I Would Pad The Bench And Install A Foot Rest!

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Tue, 16 Oct 2007 16:44:00 +0000

I love to walk to my bench with my daughter. The conversation on the way to the bench and while sitting on my bench is always stimulating. She has a small library on personality types and has figured out her type and the personalities of her father, mother and sister. This was the topic of discussion as we walked to my park bench. Based on the Myers-Briggs test each of us has a series of letters that determine our dominate type and secondary types. I read the description of my personality and found it to be quite actuate, especially the positive stuff (denial is one of my traits).

Once at the bench and after much discussion, I posed a question: Based on your study, what would each of our family members do to this bench? Here is what she concluded:

Mother: She would clean the bench with an anti-bacterial soap.
Father: He would pad the bench, slant the back (for slouching) and install a foot rest.
Older Sister: She would redecorate the bench, repainting with a faux finish.

And what would she do? Study the bench and determine it's uniqueness compared to other benches!

What would you do to the bench?

Tim

A Walking Bocce Ball Game?

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Wed, 12 Sep 2007 15:42:00 +0000

People come to the park to do many different things. Just in the area I can view from my bench I see people walking their dogs, jogging, playing baseball, kids playing, three guys practicing rock climbing moves, and a walking game of Bocce Ball. That's right Bocce Ball. The only reason I know what they were doing is I asked them as the game progressed by my bench.

Three of them were playing, two guys and a girl. They first throw the smaller ball or "pallina," and then throw eight larger balls called "boccia," trying to get them as close to the "palina" as possible. The players with the closest "boccia" to the "palina" scores. The game is usually played on a court and not across a park, but they were having fun while getting some exercise.

It made me realize that fun is one of the great motive powers of human behavior. The ability of all of us to do something that is good for us and do it on a regular basis has a lot to do with the "fun factor."

I suppose we should all be intrinsically motivated to do what's good for us no matter what the fun factor might be. Yet, as I view things from my bench all around me people have discovered not only what's good for them but also fun ways to do it.

Tim

It's the Thought That Does Not Count

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Sat, 08 Sep 2007 00:51:00 +0000

When I take my early morning walk I can't help but think of our overly Homeowners Association controlled neighborhood. You see we are not allowed to park our cars on the street overnight.

Somehow the Association Board decided the streets look better empty of any cars from 11:00 p.m. until 7:00 a.m. So if you want to see a street without cars come on by the Ventana Homes in Camarillo any time after 11:00 p.m. Cars left out on the street will be ticketed and the homeowner fined. So we go through this nightly routine of pulling cars into the driveway before 11:00 p.m. One of those cars belongs to my daughter. I pulled her car onto the driveway the other night and when I walked back into the house she came out of her bedroom and declared, "I thought about pulling my car in."

While her "thoughts" may have been in the right direction that did not put her car in the right direction. It's like the guy who at 5:00 a.m. each morning picks up trash along Mission Oaks Blvd. I see him when I'm out for my walk. One morning I asked him why he picks up trash. His response: "Somebody has to do it."

When I got to my bench it made me realize thinking does not make it so. Thinking is not doing. That's why it occurred to me it's the thought that does not count.

Tim

Tree Inner Marriage?

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 18:23:00 +0000

When I walk to my bench I pass by the continuing saga of the marriage of the Liquid Amber and the Pepper tree. For several years now I have watched these two trees literally grow into each other. The two trunks have attached to each other as if to flaunt the strictures of "tree society."

Both trees have kept their "individuality." The Liquid Amber boasts of maple like leaves and spreads it's pointy seed pods everywhere. The Pepper tree's thin light green sliver leaves shine in the Sun and gently fall to earth. Yet these two separate but equal trees have, through the years, physically attached to one another. Two trunks meshed together as one and yet so different from each other.

Some might be tempted to say it's a freak of nature. I prefer to think that these two trees stand stronger and longer together than they would apart.

After all, "Two are better than one, when one falls down the other one can lift him up." Or in this case two can hold each other up.

Tim

We Have You Covered

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Sat, 01 Sep 2007 15:48:00 +0000

Today I took my regular walk to my park bench. "My bench," is at the halfway point in my walk and sits in the middle of a busy park. I sit and soak up the Sun and do some "people watching."

I watched kids play soccer. Eight and Nine-Year-Olds, dressed in brightly colored uniforms, were trying their best to get that ball in the net. Screaming parents cheered their kids and went crazy when the rare goal was made. The "Avengers" won. When the game ended I noticed something quite remarkable. The parents of both teams created a "human tunnel." Facing each other the parents held their arms up and the team members went under the arms of their families. It was as if they where saying, "no matter what happens we have you covered."

What a great symbol of family support and encouragement.

It's what we all need to know that no matter what happens there is someone that has us covered.

Tim

Hey, Someone Was Sitting On MY Bench

noreply@blogger.com (Tim Garrison) — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 00:33:00 +0000

When I walk down to the park, halfway through my walk I sit on my bench and contemplate the great truths of life. It's a lonely introspective process, but someone must do it!

Imagine my horror to notice as I approached the sacred bench, someone else was sitting on it! The nerve! What to do? I could find another bench. But it wouldn't be the same. This after all was a bench set a part for my most inner thoughts.

The bench invader was seated on the right side of the bench so I reluctantly sat on the left side. We both stared straight ahead. My strategy was to wait him out. Surely he would soon move on. I waited and waited. But as if he sensed the challenge he refused to move.

That's when an amazing thing happened. He talked! We had a wonderful surprisingly thought-provoking conversation about life, kids, our ideas for the future, the state of the world and the glorious beauty of the day. We were both about the same age and dealing with similar issues of life. I appreciated his perspective and insights.

We both left the bench at the same time and continued our separate walks and lives, enriched by a few moments of serendipitous conversation. So maybe it should be, "The View From The Bench." No, I don't think so...

Tim