I'm very proud of my professional team. They are an impressive group who manage to bring in real revenue to the department. They all have a passion for their areas of expertise and make no excuses for their commitment to serve all demographics. I'm grateful for a new awareness regarding their abilities and efforts to advance the work of the ESS Group.
As we strive to work more collaboratively across content/groups, it is my hope that all members will be recognized for contributions that impact the entire group.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
The workout experience
Made some observations today about health and fitness as I worked out at my neighborhood gym. Having belonged to the same fitness center for several decades, I've noticed some trends. First of all fitness is a way of life, a philosophy for some people. And whether or not they are healthier or have leaner, tighter bodies is beside the point. Some of the die-hard spa people look like they did some 26 years ago when I signed on the dotted line, the frontal pouch and the junk in the trunk still abides, yet they're attendance at the "spa" has not changed. They actually work out--treadmill, elliptical, yoga, pilates--they try it all. But their results are questionable from everybody's point of view. For many in this crowd it's a social outlet-they visit more than sweat.
Secondly, the personal trainers are not held to a "model physique" standard as they were when personal training became a fad. The sculptured body of the trainer was the selling point since the price to train with an expert was exorbitant.
Thirdly,complimentary fitness support and customer service has gone the way of the grave--it is dead and buried. Do an exercise wrong after the initial introduction to gym services--too bad, you're on your own.
So the true'gym rats" the ones who understand anatomy and the rules of true health and fitness can be observed giving free unsolicited support. (Interestingly enough the gym workers have from time to time hassled them) They are mostly 'old school' gentlemen who open the door for you, and help you on or off a machine. They can be found huddled together on the free weights, spotting for each other and inviting and respectfully encouraging the ladies, like me at times, who want a challenging workout. Today's workout, a good one, was in honor of them.
Secondly, the personal trainers are not held to a "model physique" standard as they were when personal training became a fad. The sculptured body of the trainer was the selling point since the price to train with an expert was exorbitant.
Thirdly,complimentary fitness support and customer service has gone the way of the grave--it is dead and buried. Do an exercise wrong after the initial introduction to gym services--too bad, you're on your own.
So the true'gym rats" the ones who understand anatomy and the rules of true health and fitness can be observed giving free unsolicited support. (Interestingly enough the gym workers have from time to time hassled them) They are mostly 'old school' gentlemen who open the door for you, and help you on or off a machine. They can be found huddled together on the free weights, spotting for each other and inviting and respectfully encouraging the ladies, like me at times, who want a challenging workout. Today's workout, a good one, was in honor of them.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Gone too soon
Today marks the third anniversary of the death of my brother Courtney. He was an exceptional man, brilliant, gifted, talented, a prolific writer, the family historian, musician, artist. He lived life to the fullest, loved the outdoors, and saw the beauty in all of God's creatures big and small. An avid fisherman, he spent much of his time on the water when he wasn't traveling with family.
Some of Courtney’s friends once wrote that he was an amazing man who could get us off a deserted island if we were shipwrecked. Or if he couldn’t he would figure out how to turn the coconuts into manna from heaven. And they were right. He could filet a fish with marked precision, skin a rabbit with a few swift strokes of a knife, shoot a gun to hit any target and make a weapon out of a tree branch. He also could launch a boat into the water with ease and as my cousin Regina reminded me (unlike his 3 sibs or numerous cousins) at 16 years of age could back my grandaddy’s Chevrolet truck with cattle trailer attached, down the drive way, under the clotheslines and into the corral with great skill.
He had an exceptional memory, unmatched vocabulary-and remarkable "phraselogy." Identified as gifted in elementary school, he was extremely humble about his abilities. It was his great fortune that my parents recognition of his gifts (my dad with natural writing and musical abilities and my mom--a trained pianist with a gifted ear) sought out teachers who could meet his needs--and acceleration to a predominately white school found him matched with a teacher who compacted, tiered his assignments, and matched lessons to meet his interests.
He was often much smarter than his teachers (actually he was smarter than most folks period) and until he found a teacher who was not intimidated by his knowledge (and skillful enough to reroute his corrections) was often in trouble for correcting them before children and adults. The fact that he was always right really didn't help matters.
As he matured, he became a most considerate person and learned how to be respectful of his abilities. Extremly sensitive he cared about people and the critical issues in his community-making a difference in his home town. His entire community was devastated when he passed away.
He once wrote "Everything good that I could be, is because of special people in my life, not all family. I've tried to pass good attributes along."
I like to think although he was one year and 9 months younger than me that the best things in me are a reflection of him. He was a remarkable man who I miss dearly, and like my dad, a soul the Lord called home too soon.
Some of Courtney’s friends once wrote that he was an amazing man who could get us off a deserted island if we were shipwrecked. Or if he couldn’t he would figure out how to turn the coconuts into manna from heaven. And they were right. He could filet a fish with marked precision, skin a rabbit with a few swift strokes of a knife, shoot a gun to hit any target and make a weapon out of a tree branch. He also could launch a boat into the water with ease and as my cousin Regina reminded me (unlike his 3 sibs or numerous cousins) at 16 years of age could back my grandaddy’s Chevrolet truck with cattle trailer attached, down the drive way, under the clotheslines and into the corral with great skill.
He had an exceptional memory, unmatched vocabulary-and remarkable "phraselogy." Identified as gifted in elementary school, he was extremely humble about his abilities. It was his great fortune that my parents recognition of his gifts (my dad with natural writing and musical abilities and my mom--a trained pianist with a gifted ear) sought out teachers who could meet his needs--and acceleration to a predominately white school found him matched with a teacher who compacted, tiered his assignments, and matched lessons to meet his interests.
He was often much smarter than his teachers (actually he was smarter than most folks period) and until he found a teacher who was not intimidated by his knowledge (and skillful enough to reroute his corrections) was often in trouble for correcting them before children and adults. The fact that he was always right really didn't help matters.
As he matured, he became a most considerate person and learned how to be respectful of his abilities. Extremly sensitive he cared about people and the critical issues in his community-making a difference in his home town. His entire community was devastated when he passed away.
He once wrote "Everything good that I could be, is because of special people in my life, not all family. I've tried to pass good attributes along."
I like to think although he was one year and 9 months younger than me that the best things in me are a reflection of him. He was a remarkable man who I miss dearly, and like my dad, a soul the Lord called home too soon.
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