Marshall Ramsey

This is the last year I’ll ever drive my oldest son to school.

It’s a long tradition that started many, many years ago when I’d take him to Mother’s Morning Out. Back then, I saw a round cherub face in my mirror. Now I see a handsome 15-year-old sitting next to me.

I hate the traffic but I do cherish the time. Time that I know I need to hang onto for dear life.

I like to tell a few stories about my kids here. But my wife and I want them to grow up outside of the public eye — so I leave details kind of fuzzy. And we want them to stand on their own — and while they are proud of what we do, they are succeeding on their own.

That said, as a parent, the greatest challenge their mom and I face are teaching them how to fail. It’s hard because they don’t fail. They’re very talented kids — and yes, I am very proud of them for that. But at this stage of their life, they have to know how to recover when they fall down. I didn’t learn it until college and afterwards. (Life has been giving me lots of opportunities to hone that skill since then). I nearly failed Accounting II in college and would have until I got a 92 on the final. I cleaned toilets for a year when I thought I’d be a cartoonist. I had never “failed” until then. I quickly learned that whining about it didn’t solve jack squat.

I had to get busy.

My kids have to learn that, too. They have to make mistakes and learn from them. And sometimes, it might be someone else’s fault that you face difficulty. But your reaction is all on you. They also have to understand that a failure is only truly a failure if you don’t learn from it. If the rules are stacked against you, you have to be so damn good that you can overcome that.

Life isn’t fair. But it’s darn good teacher. I hope I’m one as well. It’s the one time I truly can’t afford to fail.

Thanks to everyone who came to field trip. Hope you enjoyed the experience. Be ready to share any social media you created and other thoughts about what you learned. And Dustin Barnes has agreed to come out to our class soon. I’m also lining up a field trip to Mississippi Public Broadcasting. We’ll be able to visit their TV and radio studios. And we’ll meet Ashley Jefcoat, social media guru at MPB.  You’ll like her. 

A few stories of interest: William Shatner picks a fight with Al.com 

Best times to use Facebook and Twitter.

More best times to post. 

Call The Mystery Machine. Get Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby on the phone. We have a mystery to solve.

For several weeks now, the sign in front of the Jackson City Hall has read this:

“City Hal.”

Yesterday I was able to interview a world-class pianist (Bruce Levingston) and one of America’s top entertainment moguls (Sam Haskell). I learned powerful lessons from both.

We’re very fortunate here in Mississippi to not only produce such world-class talent but to have access to them when they come back home. My JSU students got meet Bruce and watch our interview as it was being taped. I walked away a better person from the conversation. Bruce reminded me that one of the secrets to being successful is to take action and don’t take no for an answer. He has high standards and expects the world to live up to them. I teared up watching him play the piano. It was a truly a powerful moment.

Anyone who knows Sam Haskell knows he’s a force of nature. With Southern charm, a great attitude and energy to burn, he became a force in the television world before retiring from the William & Morris Agency. He has since gone on to save the Miss America pageant. He and his uber-talented wife Mary have two great kids and now grandkids. The thing I noticed about Sam is that he showed up exactly on time for the interview, was flawless in his delivery, went out of his way to make it an easy experience for the crew. He was kind, funny and a damn good interview. He’s pro. Like Bruce, you can tell he has been at the top. And both believe in giving back. They pay their blessings forward.

When I finally got to bed, my head spun as it hit the pillow. The last thought I had as I thought about my day was simply this: Thank God I live in Mississippi and can meet such interesting and fascinating people nearly every single day.

American Citizen.

Marie Hull started life taking piano lessons. By age 20, she was making art with a paint brush instead. For the next 70 years, she used her talent in a most proficient way. The Mississippi Museum of Art currently is exhibiting a brilliant collection of her work. Bright Fields: The Mastery of Marie Hull is more than a bunch of pretty paintings. It’s a showcase on how we all should live our lives.

Curator and world-class pianist Bruce Levingston guided me through the exhibit yesterday. (Mississippi Public Broadcasting taped it — when it is online, I will post a link). Like a master teacher, he used Hull’s work to hammer home the lesson. First he pointed out her signature. It evolved as she grew more confident in her talent and place in the world. Then he showed me something even more powerful.

She never settled with one style. She always kept changing.

That’s so important for an artist to learn. It’s so easy to get into a rut and tempting to hang onto something that’s commercially successful. But that can come with a cost — both mentally and physically.

Hull’s career can defined in three parts: Traditional, transitional and impressionist. Early in her career, she did haunting portraits of Depression-era Mississippians. Her floral paintings from the 1950’s are stunning. She traveled widely and captured landscapes in Europe and the Middle East that will take your breath away. And as she entered the twilight of her career, she painted impressionistic paintings that just explode with colors. Bruce said Marie Hull “saw color like he heard music.” I can believe it.

Marie Hull was a storyteller. But she didn’t settle for one single way to tell her story. She experimented and changed. In her mind, experiments never failed. They just led her on a new and more exciting journeys. Journeys that took her around the world.

That’s a lesson artists — and all of us — need to remember.

Thanks to Bruce Levingston and the Mississippi Museum of Art​ of art for allowing Marie Hull to teach me with a such beautiful exhibit.