Marshall Ramsey

1. Get rid of the Governor’s Infiniti SUV and lease him a Smart Car.
2. Unscrew the light bulbs at the Capitol. Abraham Lincoln learned by candle light and he became President.
3. Layoff unnecessary workers. Er, you can’t do that. We’d have no Legislature.
4. Serve Spam at the Governor’s Mansion.
5. Pay college players and tax them 50% (with all proceeds going to Higher Education.)  The pay-for-play model works for some SEC schools.
6. Paddle people who go over their budgets.
7. Replace the State Plane with the State Segway.
8. Make the toilets in Rest Areas pay toilets.
9. Go green: Hook up a wind turbine next to the Capitol to harness wind power.
10. Sell Phil Bryant on Ebay.

My son woke up this morning and his world was “normal.” He was loaded up in the van to  head to school.  As far as he was concerned, everything was just peachy —  until suddenly the van got off at a different exit. It didn’t go to his school; it went to a giant, frightening building.  He was taken into funny-smelling room with funny-looking people and suddenly all hell broke loose.  Nasty tasting medicine was shot into his mouth. He was torn away from his protective father and then the world went dark. He woke up and was confused. Pain shot through his body. A needle was in his hand.  He was in a different new room.  He was disoriented and scared.  His family was there to hold him, but he was still shaken.  What the heck was happening to him?

How many of us have gone through something like that lately?  I know I have.  I got my world rocked last week — and I know millions of other Americans have recently, too. Just watch the news each night. Layoffs and furloughs are sweeping across the land. Cuts are made. Dreams die. But as I think about my own situation, I think about what I saw my son go through today and realized the little guy played it just right.

1. When you get your world rocked, it’s OK to be mad about it. No one expects you to be completely stoic when you get dumped on.  Be angry. Vent. Cry. Throw a fit.  Be three.  But vent, cry and throw a fit to those closest to you. They’re the ones that truly care. Have a team of friends and family there for you. Put them on speed dial. They’re the ones who will hold you, support you and tell you they have your back.  I held my son as he was recovering. My family and friends held me.

2. Heal. You’ve just been through trauma. My son had tubes put in his ears and his adenoids removed.  I had my dreams altered.  Both of us suffered temporary pain that will lead to long-term good.  He took a long nap today and took really good medicine.  I took a couple days to mourn and vented to people who love me. It’s OK to heal your wounds before moving on.  I didn’t expect my son to hop up and press on. He had to get past what he went through.  I did, too.

3. Get over it. The amazing thing to me is by the evening, my son was nearly back to his old self. Kids are wonderful like that. They don’t dwell on past hurts. They just go one being kids. They look for wonder. They look for the next great thing.  They don’t stop being kids because something hurt. So your world got rocked. What good does it do to be bitter about it? Not much.  Sure, you have a right. My son has a right to pee in my shoe for what happened to him today.  But he won’t. He’s going to move on with his life and go on to the next great adventure. I think I will, too.

Son has snapped back quickly from his surgery.  Wish the economy was half as resilient.

Sorry I’ve been so serious as of late. My world got rocked — which isn’t exactly a bad thing.  Lord knows, we all need to be shoved out of our comfort zones.  But I’ll get back to my old snarky self soon. Promise.

In the meantime, thanks for humoring me. I’m deciding who I am going to be when I grow up.