The Cheap Seats

My son was in Prague, Czech Republic yesterday - 4,573 airline miles from Minnesota and over 3,000 from his college home in Boston. This is his third trip to Europe in 18 months. He has been fortunate enough to have opportunities like this and equally adventurous enough to take advantage of them. Travel of any kind requires three things: desire, planning, and resources. But so do many other calculated risks we may or may not take throughout life that get us out of our comfort zone. Desire has to trump fear. Planning has to overcome uncertainty. Resources have to be marshaled. I'm not talking about  grand plan  Bucket Lists. This isn't a call to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, hike the Appalachian Trail, or - Gump-like - run from one American coast to the other. Sure, those sound like worthy and exciting endeavors, but for most people they simply aren't realistic. Instead, I am referring to living an authentic life. Living an authentic life includes: - making pea

National conversations have been coming at the American people in a dizzying fashion of late, all thanks to the National Football League. The professional sport that dominates the hearts and minds of a rabid fan base has been the talk of the nation for entirely unwanted reasons. The subculture of domestic violence that is exists within the league is well documented. No reasonable person can defend it (though a few ex-jock talking heads have tried). Ray Rice's videotaped assault of his then-girlfriend was merely the tipping point of a decades-long crisis of credibility within the sport. Any national discussion of the issue has only cemented the consensus that domestic violence is abhorrent and criminal. Not so with the case of Adrian Peterson. Water cooler discussions at workplaces and around kitchen tables in homes have been diverse and lively:  - Adrian Peterson is a child abuser.  - Adrian Peterson has a right to discipline his child as he sees fit. - Spank

Fall - like any season - is all about perspective. Some people like the cooler temperatures and a return to normalcy, while others see the season only as a desperately short respite until the arrival of a long, frigid winter. Perspective - always in the eye of the beholder. Each fall I launch another school year with an introduction to the concept of perspective. Middle schoolers, whose brains are beginning to bristle with ever-more complex ideas and opinions, are ripe for my droning lecture and examples. "Kids, when expressing your perspective remember, there is no right or wrong, only opinion." Yes, Mr. Bergman . Ironically, perspective has two definitions that maddeningly defy one another. The concept I teach students, that perspective is the way people interpret something based on their own personal experience and understanding , should lead towards the other perspective -  possessing insight and wisdom acquired over time through experience . Alas, if only .

A chill wind betrays this time each year, conjuring up smells, throwing me backwards to youth when all that mattered to a boy was now and the next day. Flooded with fumes of fall and football and friendship was a clear expectation of something about to happen, hopefully a girl's glance or smile or her hand in mine. The past and future was held firmly at bay, the present lengthened and amplified to infinity, heightening the urgency of each memory and moment. Now, cut grass and cool mornings intertwine creating a longing I chase that is nearly tangible, to be that boy again who was more ignorant than knowing. But fixed here instead, I look forward with anticipation to each new autumn's annual power to send me back on an elusive breeze that carries yesterday with it.