practicing poet

Good Morning,

Here's something I bet you didn't know. April is National Poetry Month!

In celebration I'm putting on my white robes and refusing to leave my room...I thought I'd also get out some parchment this morning and pen a few ditties of my own.

Poem #1 (I'm still working on the titles...)
My heart leaps when I behold
dewy dew drops
clinging to blades of grass
unshorn
trickle dee dee on down
my love
among the worms

#2
death like a moonlit shadow
lurking i hide in thee
waiting
to send shivers
of joy through an unmarked history

#3
when you are old gray and full of sleep
i will sing you a lullaby soft and sweet

(something from the Beatles Abbey Road collection)

should you snuff, snorezzzel horzzzel a reply
it will be my harmony bye and bye

#4
I wandered lonely as a cloud but then I went through the emergency exit and it was LOUD.
Security came running and I definitely wasn’t lonely anymore.

The End.

If you like my "poetic inspirations," you might enjoy my favorite poets Shel Silverstein and Paul Guest (I don't really understand his poems just his process)

http://www.shelsilverstein.com/play.asp

http://paulguest.blogspot.com/ (Paul Guest's blog)

Happy Monday,

Amanda

p.s. stay tuned. next week drumming and spoken word!

where i learned to play ball

Good Morning,

I may be going a little overboard with this baseball business but when you’ve got two full museums worth of material you gotta work it!

Just in case you snoozed through my last couple MMN posts (no worries baseball tends to have this affect on me too), I’ve been learning about women’s baseball and the Negro Baseball Leagues. Following one of these entries, I received this hot tip from a MMN insider

Amanda,

Good evening. I enjoyed your email. Did you know that Minster had a woman who played in this league from 1951 through 1955? Check her out. Her name is Katie Horstman. I just did a search and there's lots of information on her.

Love you,
Dad

So...

Katie Horstman, now 76 yrs. old grew up in Minster, the same small town in Northwest Ohio where my Grandparents came or age and raised their families. With five brothers, Katie learned to play ball tagging along and insisting they include her in their games. At age 15, a scout spotted her in a church-league softball game and helped her earn a tryout for the All American Girls Baseball League.

That's when she announced she would be taking her talents South of "the Bend" to the Fort Wayne!...

(i.e. she signed a contract for roughly $250 a month to play for the Fort Wayne Daisies)

Having the same Midwest potato salad family reunion experience, I’ve perhaps walked across some of the same fields perhaps even swung a bat in the same park that sprung this Fort Wayne Daisy of the AAGBL.

While the story of what these pioneering women experienced remains interesting, what is most interesting to me is what became of Katie after the league.

I imagined rebellion.

Did she skip town for the bright lights, anonymity, and casual wear of a big city? Did she fall into a depression, get drunk on love and booze and settle down with a nice farm boy? Did she run for mayor of Minster and throw cheese from the dairy float in the Oktoberfest parade? (the main event each year in the German Catholic village of Munster).

No, Katie became a nun.

who then became a physical education teacher and...

This is where her story at least in my life's narrative picked up again. As a talented young female athlete with bloodlines in Minster, peep the word that you've joined the middle school track team and you will hear...

"Have you heard of the Minster girls?"

No matter that your 400 time clocks in around average, your "finishing kick" is only the Charlie Brown moments in your head...(i.e. if you close your eyes it seeeems fast!)

a response of "No, I have not,"

leads to the recounting of the remarkable lore of--KATIE HORSTMAN!...

After saying goodbye to another winning team, The Franciscan Sisters of the Sacred Heart, Katie barnstormed the Midwest, teaching physical education and eventually returned home to Minster and brought life to the girls' sports programs.

To give you an idea of her success I've "coped" (i.e. copied) a bit of her induction into the Ohio Women's Hall of Fame (2002)

By 1980, she focused on track and cross country. For the next five years, Coach Horstman's Minster girls team never lost a track meet. After being Runner-Up State Champions in 1975, the inaugural year of girls track and field, Coach Horstman's Minster girl's team won five consecutive state championships.

Given I have no real physical limitations to my imagination, I like to imagine Coach Horstman and I are kin. Had I arrived all spindly legged on her team quickly she would recognize an uncanny talent. "Our differences..." she would note "are our strengths." We are different. Katie could see I shouldn't throw heavy objects. I, with patience, could be taught the technique to harness my "ups" (high jumping) into a torpedo of bendy efficiency. Oh the records we would set...the heights we would reach!

Katie went from milking cows to shagging flies for the Daisies to...

medaling in the Olympics (2 gold 2 bronze) with her slow-pitch softball team in the Senior Olympic Games. Currently, she lives in the LA area. In addition to performing baseball education clinics her most recent efforts include doing work to establish a Palm Springs Elderhostel (another term I have only heard in Minster. It means Senior Citizens getting in a car and traveling some place for educational enrichment).

To me the greatest gift of Katie Horstman's legend is the jog she will always give to my favorite memory.

I was 10 years old playing backyard baseball with the boys. A stiff wind from the outfield blowing in a steady smell of country air (cow poop). With the bravado only mustered by a young girl wearing a plastic Cincinnati Reds helmet, I stopped my grandma on her trek out to the garden (she kept it next to the bullpen). I asked, "Grandma can you hit?"

My grandma in buckle-strap sandals grabbed a bat and cracked a jaw dropping fly ball I only wish an AAGBL scout could've seen.

and another...and another!!!...

Perhaps Grandma was showing us what all good women have to share. No matter the circumstance there's always a place in life for a heart with endless determination and resilience. Get on out there and Play ball! : )

Alright, that's what I have for today.

Wishing you an even happier Tuesday,

Amanda

looking for heroic moments

Good Morning,

I've got heroic moments on my mind this morning. To me a "heroic moment" can be defined as when the ordinary oversteps its bounds to become extraordinary.

Sometimes it is incredibly clear where this line gets drawn e.g., the 9/11 passengers who tried to overtake the terrorists and brought down their own plane. Other times it's a little suspect...the boy finishing last in every event at the father-son picnic saying "my dad's my hero!"

...recently I watched a documentary film in which a young man in high school stood at a wedding reception watching his father's Elvis impersonator act. He later confessed "my dad's my hero."

Where does this line get drawn? The young man with the Elvis dad highlights for me that a "heroic moment" ...depends more on the eyes of the observer.

In this way, I'd like to offer

Satchel Paige...the author of one of my favorite heroic moments...

(*I've recently been to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum)

Leroy "Satchel" Paige was an ace pitcher for the Kansas City Monarchs of the Negro Leagues.

Before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier and helped integrate “Major League Baseball” cities across the Northeast, Midwest, and South outfitted their own teams of the best African American ballplayers. To keep the Negro League afloat teams such as the Monarchs would barnstorm across the country playing challenge games against local white talent.

It was in one of these games that Stachel’s heroism stood out.

Bases loaded a white player on the opposing side told Satchel "he wan’t no pitcher. he’s just a no good darky!”

Defiant, Satchel stopped the game and called all the outfielders and the infielders to the mound.

He said, “I don’t need ya. cept the catcher."

According to one of Satchel's teammates, a man who was on the field that day, all his fielders, except the catcher of course, then retired to the dugout.

...To me, heaving a basketball 60ft. down court to sink a winning basket is "very cool" it's "amazing" "AWESOME!!!" It's not however the heroic moment I'd pick. I'd rather go with a man or woman whose deed took on the dark history of society, that stuck a finger to the hate and injustices of segregation!

It took NINE PITCHES! Three pitches to the first batter, three pitches to the next, and three pitches to strike out the side...

for the full account you can go to

http://www.coe.ksu.edu/nlbemuseum/reslib/clips/milespaigevid.html

awesome!

So tonight as "One Shining Moment" plays for the NCAA champion and as MLB baseball continues to fire up its season, I'd like to raise a muscle in salute to Satchel who gave us all a moment to cheer for and be inspired by...okay and he also gave us these...

Satchel's Rules For Livin'

"Avoid fried meats which angry up the blood."
"If your stomach disputes you, lie down and pacify it with cool thoughts."
"Keep the juices flowing by jangling around gently as you move."
"Go very light on the vices, such as carrying on in society—the social ramble ain't restful."
"Avoid running at all times."
"And don't look back—something might be gaining on you

Happy Monday,

Amanda...jangling around gently as I move : )