Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Ira Lindberg Harris (1988-2012)

I enter this week, as many of my Shenandoah Alums do, with a heavy heart.  It was roughly two years ago to the day that our Ira Harris was involved in an altercation that left Ira in intensive care where he would succumb to his injuries two days later on February 27th.  When news first hit that Ira was badly injured and in serious condition, thoughts, prayers, and rallying words flooded Facebook so much that I bet if a regional survey was taken, the name Ira Harris would've been trending on Facebook in the DC/VA/MD area.  In fact, I guarantee it.  Why?  Because that is how many people Ira not only knew, but loved, touched, and inspired.  Ira was a man that knew just one thing: love.  He knew how to love, how to be loved, why we should be loved, and what he loved.  Not bad for what some would label as 'just a kid.'

Ira was the first person that ever said anything to me on my first day on the Shenandoah Campus.  I remember it quite vividly, and for those of you that know my short-term memory, this is quite an accomplishment for me.  It was a rainy, ugly day in August 2007 and it was freshman move-in day.  The entirely too small parking lots were filled with cars, parents, dolly carts, suitcases, cardboard boxes, and unattended younger brothers and sisters.  And it was only 8 am.  My family brought two cars; dad and I in his, mom and Eric (my brother) in mom's.  Dad dropped me off at the front door to Racey, my freshman dorm, and went to find a parking spot with mom's Volkswagen Passat puttering behind.  As I walked in, there was a table with five or six (maybe it wasn't that vivid after all) people helping misty-eyed parents and wide-eyed, quasi-nervous students.

But one person stood out.  It wasn't his mane of tight, spiraly hair, though it didn't help, but it was his energy.  He was bouncing back and forward, bobbing his head, helping anybody and everybody with energy that I had never seen before.  And I remind you it was 8 am and some change.  He then asked if I needed some help.  Uhh, hell yes.  I told him my name and he looked at his check-in list and smiled when he found it.  It wasn't because I knew him or he knew me.  I had never met this man before.  He was smiling because, as it would turn out, I would be living right across from him and he would be my RA for my freshman year.  By then, dad had parked the car and made his way to the lobby and met me at the table.  Dad introduced himself to Ira and you would've thought Ira was shaking hands with Michael Jackson himself.  He then escorted my dad and me to my room, asked if I needed anything else, and then went back to the lobby.  That was my first experience with Ira.

Now, I'm not going to recount my whole history with Ira, but I wanted to share that first one because that was what was so special about him.  Ira didn't know me from Adam, but he didn't care.  I was another new face for him, but what a new face meant to Ira was a new friend and a new person to love.  That's why he was so excited to meet me.

In 2009, another very dear friend of mine, Casey Spence, died.  When I moved to Ellicott City in 2001, I was paralyzingly shy, still am to an extent, but she was the one that reached out to me and brought me into the neighborhood.  There's no doubt that if it weren't for her, I never would have met my best friend to this day, Jon Kaufman.  Casey was the catalyst to what would be a very enjoyable middle and high school career.  All because of Casey.  At Casey's funeral, the priest made an interesting but profound point.  He said, 'While we celebrate and embrace the life that Casey led, we must also look at how she left us.'  I will never forget this.  I thought it was odd to talk about that at a funeral, but over the years it became clear to me why he said this.

Life is full of entrances and exits, and each much be treated with the same respect because it will make subsequent entrances and exits mean that much more.  We must never forget how we met our best friends just like we should never forget how people leave our lives. whether it be voluntarily or not.  Whether it be physically or spiritually.  So that is why I told you how Ira left us.  Because it shouldn't matter how he left.  That doesn't change the type of person he was and how he lived his life.  When Ira died, a reunion of SU alums was organized that night at a bar in Astoria, and I remember the toast I made.  I said that Ira lived a unique and special life and we were are blessed to have met him.  But now that he is gone, we have the awesome responsibility to carry on his legacy.  It is our job to love like Ira loved and spread his personality to people that will encounter throughout our lives that never met Ira.  Because everybody should have an Ira in their lives.  That is our job and I know we will all see it through.

I have certainly loved a lot more in my life since Ira and Casey's passing and will continue to love more and more.  Sometimes it is hard.  Sometimes it isn't.  But it is always necessary.

Abide and Ramble On
Stish

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Hello, My Name is Roses. Blue Roses.

Last week, I had the good fortune to see the latest Broadway revival of Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie.  Let me first state that this is not going to be a review.  I will simply say, about the production itself, that it was truly a wonderful piece of theatre and it did a wonderful job of breathing new life, as well as resurrecting the old, into this timeless tale.  What struck me, from my third-row mezzanine seat, was the dialogue and what it really said.  Most notably, the scene between the gentleman caller, or Jim, and the daughter, or Laura.  

Just some background...

Laura is a shy, timid, case-study introvert.  She is 'crippled' and has decided to let that physical handicap cripple her experience in life.  She is the kind of person that would apologize profusely to a brick wall if she ran into it...if she left the house.  Jim is an old classmate of Laura's and her brother, Tom, who was brought over for what was assumed to be an innocent dinner with Tom, now a co-worker, and his mom, Amanda.  Oh, don't let me forget that Laura has harbored some very strong, passionate feelings for Jim ever since their days in high school.  In the scene that the two characters share together, Jim is able to clue into Laura and why she is how she thinks she is.  She has spent her entire life focusing on her disability and what has made her different from her peers.  Then Jim says something that really hit me.  More so than it ever did in the past when I read this play.

JIM:  A little physical defect is what you have.  Hardly noticeable even!  Magnified thousands of times by imagination!  You know what my strong advice to you is?  Think of yourself as superior in some way!...Everybody excels in some one thing.

(cue major exhalation of breath)

Damn, that Tennessee is good.  

Often times, when certain lines or moments in plays or movies hit, it takes a minute for me to realize why they did.  But, with this instance, I knew exactly why.  As I have mentioned in previous ramblings, I have adopted a new life philosophy within the past year or so and the main focus of my new philosophy (sorry to my musical theatre mavens reading this and are now being plagued with Kristin Chenoweth's rendition of "My New Philosophy") is to accept what you have because what you have, no one else has.  And what you have is part of your nature, it is what is helping you on your path, or you way.  We all suffer from shortcomings that we think we have that no one else sees or even cares about because of how we blow it up in our heads.  Anything that we perceive to be wrong with us is always WAY blown up in our own heads and, when asked around, no one cares about it.  Most don't even notice it.  Just like Jim with Laura's physical defect, which is portrayed by a slight limp, he never even noticed it, and if he did, he never thought twice about it.  It is us, or Laura in this case, that think twice, three times, or more about where we think we fall short of our peers.  

But why waste time on that?  Why think about what others might not like about what they see in us, which they probably won't?  It's so much more fun to think about what is awesome about us.  And what we have that no one else does.  And so what if we have what could be considered a 'defect'?  Just like a scar on your thump affecting its print, that 'defect' is what makes us the individual we are.  No one else has two scars on their right calf like I do.  No one has a scar on his lower back like I do.  No one else's right eyebrow hangs lower than their left like mine does due to a wrestling injury.  No one else has humor as dry as the Sahara or as skewed as the Escherian Stairwell.  And I do that very well.

Which leads to part two...

Own what you have and what you can do.  No one is totally useless and incapable.  Everyone can do something better than anyone else.  Find it.  Embrace it.  Fall in love with it and let other people fall in love with you.  

In the past year, since adopting my new philosophy (sorry again) I have done something that I can honestly say is a first for me: I have started to really love the person that I am and what I bring to this world.  And let me tell you, it is awesome.  There's really no need to expound upon that.  It is pretty self-explanatory.  I have learned to love and I am loving it.  I am not perfect.  I don't do things perfectly.  And I never will be or do perfect.  But I can perfectly love what I do and I can make sure that what I do, I do it like no one else does or can.  I'm not the best singer, but no one sings like Dave Stishan.  I'm not the best dancer.  But no one clod-hops like Dave Stishan.

And no one (FILL IN INDIVIDUAL SKILL OR ACTIVITY) like (INSERT YOUR NAME).

So remember what Jim said through Tennessee.  In so many words: 
- Be proud of what your nature has given you.  
- Nothing is ever as bad on our outside as we think it is on our inside.
- Be superior and know that it is ok to be able to do something well.

Abide and ramble on,
Stish