Marshall Ramsey

My phone dings, beckoning me with its electronic siren song. I, being properly trained like one of Pavlov’s mutts, immediately pick it up. There’s knowledge to be had after all. And my phone is ready to share.

I quickly open Twitter.  The world is at my thumb.

First tweet: The head of the Senate Foreign Relations committee said that President was treating his office like “a reality show.”  And that his reckless threats could cause World War III.

World War III? Well that’s bad. I remember being terrified that the Soviets would nuke us.  The show “The Day After,” in the 1980’s gave me nightmares. The President’s comments about North Korea are bringing them back.  Next tweet: He vows to relatiate against the head of the Senate Foreign Relations committee. Maybe Bob Corker will get nuked.

I continue to scroll. California is on fire again.  Firestorms that move faster than cars are wiping out whole neighborhoods and are continuing to grow.  I remember a firestorm when I lived in San Diego. It was scary as hell — no it was hell.

OK, phone, you’re not cheering me up.

Next tweet: Puerto Rico is still struggling to get back on the grid.  Note to self, donate to local charity that is helping people on the island —  I still remember what it was like on the Mississippi Gulf Coast after Katrina.  At least Nate didn’t flatten the coast.

Dang. The news is a bit overwhelming today. Maybe entertainment news from Hollywood will cheer me up.  Nothing like a little fluff to lighten the day.

Harvey Weinstein is trending. I flip through a few tweets. Oh.  Yuck. I know — you’re innocent until proven guilty — but the accusations are really disgusting. And now the dominos are starting to fall with more people are coming out against him. He’s lost his job as the head of his own company.  Being creepy and abusing power seems to a non-partisan trait. Allegedly, of course. But still — absolutely horrible. Time to move on.

A new Star Wars trailer! Luke Skywalker was my hero growing up. What? He’s old and grumpy!?! NO!!!!!  I feel your pain Luke.

Maybe I see some sporting news to cheer me up.  It’s a politics-free zone, right?

ESPN’s Jemele Hill has been suspended for some anti-Jerry Jones tweets.  Twitter is hazardous to your professional health.   Maybe I need to go to Facebook to see what’s on my friends’ minds. I could use some nice pictures of kids and cat videos.  Instead I find a series of political rants about football.  Yes son, when I was a kid, we just argued about the game, not the pregame. My hair immediately hurts.I quickly turn off Facebook. My anxiety level rises like the surge flowing through a casino parking garage.

My phone dings again. It’s calling to me again like, “You want more?” I hold it in my hand looking at it.

No, I don’t.

We can’t control the news we read day in and day out. But we can control how we react to it.  I wish I could make politicians be rational. I wish I could stop fires and hurricanes. I wish I could make the world sane. But wishing doesn’t change things.  Taking action in the world where you live does.  I can focus my effort in helping my community be a better place.

My phone dinged yet again.  I put it in the drawer.

Once upon a time in mass of land between New Orleans and Mobile, there was a beautiful kingdom. And in that kingdom were majestic oaks, beautiful homes, tall hotels and floating casinos. Brown water tickled the white sand. Barrier islands stood guard off in the distance, protecting the brown sound fromthe sea beyond. It was a casual land, filled with joy, song, food and family — a paradise in its own Southern way.

The beautiful kingdom had been ravaged by storms over the years. Each time the wind, rain and waves roared in from the sea, the people would rebuild.  Several generations had grown up by the sea. The evil wind Camille had struck the kingdom, but once again, it had rebuilt. Gentle breezes and waves lapped at the shoreline as tall lighthouse stood guard.

All was good.

One hot August day, dark clouds built to the south. The soothsayer Cantore had warned the people they should leave and that their kingdom would never be same. Some heeded his warning. But others, who had survived the evil wind Camille, chose to stay.  It was a decision they’d soon regret.

The evil wind Katrina nearly spanned the width of the Gulf. It’s vast arms spun around a tightly wound eye.  Soon it was a five on the evilness scale and headed directly for the beautiful kingdom on the mass of land.  Katrina didn’t just rake the kingdom with its wind, though. Instead it picked up the sea and dumped in on top of the buildings and people.  Soon the surge covered and destroyed everything within sight of the sea.  Homes were reduced to kindling. Floating casinos were dumped onto where the homes had been. When the sea withdrew, death blanked the coastline for ninety miles.

All that remained standing were a few oaks, tall hotels and one solitary lighthouse. The beautiful kingdom fell quiet as a tomb.

After the citizens buried their dead and removed the debris, they sat down and decided how they would rebuild.  “Taller!” They cried. “Back from the sea!” They demanded. Volunteers volunteered. Codes were strengthened. Businesses slowly returned. Casinos were built upon the land. The scarred land slowly healed.  Casinos reopened and the houses of waffle popped up like mushrooms all along the coast, signaling the kingdom’s rebirth.

Twelves years later, the sky to the south darkened again. The evil wind Nate roared quickly from Mexico toward the beautiful kingdom, hoping to catch it off guard. Although not as powerful as Katrina, Nate knew what Katrina had done to cause the most damage. “I’ll send the waves crashing across the shore,” he cackled as he planned his assault upon the people.  Once again, the soothsayer Cantore, joined by his partner Seidel, warned the citizens to leave.  Orderly evacuations began. As the sky darkened, Nate spun up and prepared to crush the kingdom with his waves.

But something was different this time. The buildings were high above the surge. The ones that were lower were stronger. Nate spat wave after wave at the coastline. Nothing budged. He blew his hurricane-force winds at the homes and the trees. Damage was minimal.  As Nate lost his will and exited stage right into Alabama, he looked back in frustration. The citizens were all ready repairing the damage.  Linemen were restoring electricity. MDOT was cleaning up the debris along the highway of 90.  Casinos, gas stations and grocery stores reopened.  The resilient people of the land in mass once again how strong they really were.

Nate had planned on destroying the beautiful kingdom. But because of the lessons learned from the evil wind Katrina, Nate had failed.

And thanks to planning, they all lived happily ever after.

Last night, Amy, my family and I watched the movie Jerry Maguire. Written by Cameron Crowe and staring about every famous person from the 1990s, Jerry Maguire is the story of a sports agent (Tom Cruise) who, after suffering a mild breakdown, comes up with a new philosophy of doing business. His middle-of-the-night, 24-page mission statement said basically this: Less clients, less money and more personal attention. Of course, being the 1990’s and being professional sports, he was fired. He lost all his clients but one, Cardinals receiver Rod Tidwell (Cuba Gooding, Jr. in his Oscar-winning performance). Anyway, if you want to know all the details, it is a worthy rental. It features sharp writing, good acting, a strong soundtrack and cool 1990 technology (huge cell phone, clunky laptop and a trip to a copy shop to hand out his mission statement instead of just emailing it.).

You’ll also find out a human head weighs eight pounds.

But there was one scene that really jumped out at me. It was when Jerry Maguire confronts Tidwell about why he is not more successful. Here’s what he had to say:

Jerry Maguire to Rod Tidwell: “All right, I’ll tell you why you don’t have your ten million dollars. Right now, you are a paycheck player. You play with your head, not your heart. In your personal life, heart. But when you get on the field it’s all about what you didn’t get. Who’s to blame. Who won through the pass. Who’s got the contract you don’t. Who’s not giving you your love. You know what, that is not what inspires people. That is not what inspires people! Shut up! Play the game, play it from your heart. And you know what, I’ll show you the kwan. And that’s the truth, man! That’s the truth. Can you handle it? It’s just a question between friends, you know. Oh, and when they call you ‘shrimp,’ I’m the one who defends you!”

That hit me like a lightning bolt from the sky. How many times have we done a job for the money? Or worried what someone else is getting that you aren’t? We focus on how unfair something is or how we don’t want to be working hard. But we don’t lead with our heart. Are we sullen, unwilling to try new things or uncooperative? Are we unwilling to change?

I’d post the link to the scene but it has a little bit of profanity in it. But honestly, it’s worth you seeking out on YouTube. Like Jerry McGuire’s mentor Dicky Fox would say, “If this (points to heart) is empty, this (points to head) doesn’t matter.”

Dear Tropical Storm Nate,

I just saw your updated travel itinerary and it looks like you’re dropping by here for a visit — as in, “we’re under a Jim Cantore Warning!”

Not good.

I know, I know — your plans could change at the last minute but the cone of uncertainty seems pretty certain. Mississippi has a big “kick me Nate” sign on its back. You’re the biggest test the Gulf Coast has faced since your evil great grandmother Katrina kicked us in the teeth.

You’re not welcome here.

Nate, I knew Katrina and you’re no Katrina — and I hope you stay that way. But I know that there is a threat that you could get delusions of grandeur and grow strong. Warm water is your fuel and the Gulf is as warm as pee in a hot tub.

Did I mention you’re not welcome here?

I will take some basic precautions to get ready for you. The Big K was 12 years ago, but I still have a very fresh memory of my trees doing the hula. And no power when it is hot really sucks. That wasn’t much fun.

I know it is October, but I am not ready for any trick or treaters. If you come to my house, I’m giving you a rock.

I’m not panicking Nate. I’m just getting ready for your visit.

So take your time. No better yet, go to Hell. We don’t want you here.

Marshall