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BE SOMEBODY? THERE ARE CLUES ALONG THE WAY

You’ve heard the request to ‘be somebody?’
Be trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, and more.
The request usually comes from an adult speaking to someone who screwed up.
They ask why we can’t be better than what we’re in trouble for.
It’s different when we’re in trouble with ourselves.
My first sport was baseball. I played first base like my older brother.
Not much an arm, not much of a hitter, afraid of the ball, but I had hopes.
During one game I was out there and a right handed batter swung late and send a Little League screamer to my right side.
I got down and stuck out my glove out for a backhanded catch I’d never made before.
Thinking I’d at least knocked the ball down, I looked for it, turning a circle while the runner was flying down the first base line.
I finally found the ball in my glove and stepped on the bag for the out.
Call me the Brooks Robinson of first base, but that was it for baseball highlights.

 

Then I tried basketball.
I was slow, had no shot, average defender, but I could box out.
The highlight of playing on grade school and junior high teams?
Twenty rebounds and two points.
Call me the Rodman before Rodman.

 

Football season always seemed to end early with an injury of some kind.
The highlights came in freshman year when I played linebacker and stunted on every play.
I got lucky sometimes and met the runner in the hole.
Before the season ended early the next year I got to start a high school varsity game with my older brother.
He was a senior, a 220 pound Shrine Allstar; I was a sophomore, 180 pound of trying to be somebody.
My ball playing days were less than stellar, but the lessons learned have lasted a lifetime.
As they should.

 

Be Yourself

If you played sports of any kind, whether you were any good or not, it’s important to remember the significance of playing.
You learned to be on time, learned to study your position, and learned how much you liked repetition, also known as practice.
If you want to be good at baseball you need to take your swings in batting practice and learn how to judge a ground ball.
One of the baseball fields was a dirt parking lot sprinkled with gravel. It was called The Rock Pile.
Imagine a coach yelling to get down on a grounder where every bounce is a bad bounce.
I wasn’t the only one to have a ball pop up, hit me in the face, then get accolades for ‘hanging in there’ and ‘good block.’
It was a tough classroom.

 

If you’re not inclined to take a hundred swings a day, shoot a hundred shots a day, or work on speed and strength, you’ll still have fun playing sports with friends, but don’t make plans for future dominance.
Along with sports, I joined social organizations, like the Boy Scouts.
It was weird back then, too. After I joined, the Scoutmaster named Mr. Jones, sold all of the scout gear on his way out of town.
A local dad took over and did a good job.
I remember him explaining to the troop before a campout, “Some of you will try for your cooking merit badge by cooking me breakfast. Be sure and wash your hands first because I don’t want any scout pecker on my bacon, eggs, and toast.”
He was ahead of his time for youth hygiene.
During one Camporee my platoon made an incredible table by lashing poles together.
It was the pride of the entire camp, but we didn’t get the award for best construction because the judges thought the entire troop made it.
They couldn’t believe it was just on squad, the Fox Squad.

 

Be Somebody, Be All You Can Be

I was fast tracked when I joined the Army.
They made me the Platoon Guide, an authority position.
They sent me to leadership school, elected me as a representative in company meetings.
My Drill Sergeant outlined my Army career in glowing terms that made me want to sign up for more than my two year enlistment and go to elite schools after bootcamp.
They knew their guy better than I knew me, and I was swayed.
Then the fateful night it all came crashing down.

 

In the Army bootcamp there’s a thing called ‘firewatch’ where some poor sap stays up half the night watching for fire.
At least that’s what we heard.
I think they were scouting for people who could actually stay awake on watch, then get them to schools where they’d learn to guard important things in the middle of the night.
One night, in the middle of course, the whistles blew, voices yelled. It was a fire drill.
Half my groggy platoon on the third floor barracks made it out, the others straggled over those who’d fallen in the stairway.
For role call the captain yelled into the darkness, “FIRST PLATOON REPORT.”
The correct response was, “ALL PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR, SIR.”
From, first, to second, to third, that’s how it went.
Then Forth Platoon, my platoon.
We weren’t all present and accounted for, but the captain asked again.
The Drill Sergeant told me how to answer. I explained the situation.
The captain yelled for his report, the Drill Sergeant got pissed I wouldn’t answer, the captain asked, “What the problem, Sergeant Easterling.”
DS: Answer the captain.
Me: No, Drill Sergeant. We’ve got people hurt on the stairway who need help.
Captain: FOURTH PLATOON REPORT.
DS: Answer the captain, goddammit, stop fucking around.
Captain: DRILL SERGEANT EASTERLING, REPORT.
DS: ALL PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR, SIR.

 

And that was the end of the Army career I’d just begun and I had two years to think about it.
That was the night I went from being ‘one of us’, to ‘one of them’, a problem.

 

Be A Problem Solver 

Over the years I’ve solved a few problems, made a few problems, and solved those too.
Now we have new problems with kids staying on social media to the point they get shamed, bullied, and belittled.
We have adults, baby boomers, harking back to their good old days of eating dirt, riding bikes, and getting whipped with a coat hanger.
“It was good enough for me and look how I turned out.”
Mental health is a foreign concept to them. Anyone who complains is a sissy, a pussy, a wimp.
But before we get involved with youth mental health, let’s check on adult mental health, one group in particular.
We’ve got an epidemic of people, male adults, who have never come to grips with their failure to be somebody.
To bolster their spirits, and solidify their personal identity, they gather to bitch about how badly they’re treated, how they’re being replaced, and how they plan to fight the power.
They rally to the cry of a leader who calls them stupid, who wonders why they are so bedraggled, and who promises to help them if they ever get in trouble.
My big question on social media mental issues comes from highly educated people pretending they didn’t learn squat in their Ivy League school.
Most of the time people who are anti-science, anti-evolution, anti-education don’t attend notable institutions of higher learning.
Maybe they got through high school, took a term of junior college?
Since they vote, candidates try and reach out to them on their level instead of explaining things like global warming, disease prevention, and cooperation between people.
If you find yourself siding with these people you might be headed toward a social media mental breakdown.
At the very least you may be vulnerable to moronic predictions and revisionist history.
“I didn’t call dead American soldiers suckers and losers,” but a highly respected retired general says otherwise.
“I didn’t say I’d be a weird-ass zealot and surround myself with hacks and yes-men.”
But you did when you had a chance, so no more chances.
A person seeking the job of a nations top lawman and moral guide, the Great Father, shouldn’t have thirty-four felony convictions and a rape conviction.

 

If you’re planning to be somebody, don’t be that guy. Don’t give him your vote.
Do women deserve to have control of their own bodies? Don’t give him your vote.
Do educators deserve to teach what they believe are core competencies? Don’t give him your vote.
The man who says only he can solve problems is a problem, especially after he demonstrated his problem solving skills with, “It is what it is.”
What is it? Don’t give him your vote and find out, you already know.
About David Gillaspie

I am a writer. This is my blog story day by day.