The Big Things

My beloved Georgia Bulldogs just lost their third straight game last weekend against a scrappy Mississippi State team in front of their giddy home crowd. The Dawgs are reeling, and for the first time in Coach Mark Richt's ten seasons, his program is under fire like never before.

The Monday-morning pundits and the ubiquitous sports bloggers seem ready to offer Richt the proverbial cigarette before covering his head and slipping the noose around his neck. Off you go, loser. Let's get a REAL coach in here. Let's win every play, every series, every game, every week. No excuses, just win, baby.

Richt's teams averaged ten wins a season before the current unpleasantness, but the accrued goodwill of such consistently high achievement evaporated after the latest loss. He has been convicted of the unpardonable sin of failing to garner a group of mostly teenagers into a collegiate football juggernaut in what is easily the most difficult conference in the (sometimes very ugly) business of college football.

To some, it's as if the end of the world is nearing. Their satisfaction in life is far too dependent upon the play of a nineteen-year-old college student in a contest that will, at its end, determine a winner and loser in a game, same as Go Fish or Horse or Dancing with the Stars.

Is it the same as a nineteen-year-old Marine dying from wounds in Afghanistan?

Of course it isn't. And those of us who get so swept up in college football games should take a deep breath and remember that the players who play, win or lose, live to play another day. It's a game, nothing more.

Back to those nineteen-year-old Marines: Does it matter that they played football on a winning or losing team? Or does it matter more that, as athletes, they were taught to give maximum effort, to never quit, to play by the rules, to stay loyal to their teammates and coaches, to get back up after being knocked down?

Keep developing young men, Mark Richt. That has a greater purpose--to them as individuals and to our society as a whole. The winning will follow eventually.

Guest Blogging

I am the guest blogger this week at my friend and fellow author CK Webb's Twisted Webb blog.

Thanks, CK!

http://twistedwebb.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-being-writer-by-gerald-gillis.html?spref=fb

And The Winner Is . . .

I was notified last month that my novel Shall Never See So Much was a finalist for a Readers Favorite award. The awards are Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Honorable Mention. There were five books as finalists in the Historical Fiction category out of all the novels entered.

Waiting a month for the final results has been a bit of a tense proposition.

With five books and four awards, one can get left out, you see. One thinks about that when considering the full range of possibilities.

Alas, not to worry.

Shall Never See So Much has been awarded the Bronze prize. It is now an "award winning" novel. I suppose by extension that makes me an "award winning" author. I confess I like the sound of both.

Now I can take a deep breath and relax. I'm sure I'll need an antacid after all this. Hmm, I wonder if the label on the antacid says "award winning"? (Oh stop it, for crying out loud!).

In any event, it's finally over. I'm grateful for the judges who chose my book. And I'm grateful for the readers who have bought it.

And I'm grateful for your reading this.

Awaiting the Award

My novel Shall Never See So Much is up for an award. It is a finalist for a Readers Favorite award in the category of Historical Fiction. There will be four winners named: Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Honorable Mention. There are five books among the finalists. That's right - four awards, five nominees.

Naturally I think I'll win. My book could very well be one of the six or seven best novels ever written. Truthfully, writing's not my only incomparable skill. I can think on my feet and handle tough interview questions. Why, let somebody dare ask me about my definition of marriage. Too, I am graceful and poised when I strut about in evening wear. Perhaps even a little coquettish. And besides, I look way better in a bathing suit than the other authors. And I can sing, too. Still. But the rumors about the sex tapes? Not a shred of truth.

Not to be boastful, but my book is a lock. When the four names are called, one will still be standing there, looking down sheepishly and trying valiantly to act like losing is no big deal. It ain't gonna be me, folks. I'll be standing there in my speedo, holding high the Gold medal and singing "Love and Marriage" in a raw masculine display of good ole American winnership.

Winners will be announced on September 1st. I will post a later blog and let you know how I finished, unless of course I lose in which case I'll quietly slink into the woods to commune with nature.

Anyway, until then, we finalists will wait in our evening gowns with our bouquets in our arms, smiling radiantly, and wait for the winners to be announced.

While I'm completely confident of victory, I do have to confess that the thought of losing, of standing there all alone and forcing a smile through the tears, does affect my ability to think and type and xmemdnrishaklcnjskanddnsbakdnfgbkssbnd

New York, New York

I am a son of the South. With the exception of my service in the U.S. Marine Corps, I have lived my entire life in the Southeastern USA. I've had the good fortune to travel all over the world, but it's the South I'll always call home. I love its heat and humidity, the grits and gravy, the Appalachian Mountains, the Atlantic and Gulf coasts, the writers and musicians, the red clay, pine trees, peach pie, and peanut brittle. Athens, Georgia on a football Saturday is nothing short of a quick little glimpse into Heaven itself (with red & black substituting for gold, of course). God has to let UGA lose every now and then or else we Dawg people might begin to think we'd already been called Home.

But by far, my favorite city on the face of this planet is New York. It is simply the greatest city in the world, in a world fully stocked with great cities. I love London, Sydney, Rome, Dublin, Tokyo, and Toronto. And I love our own Chicago, San Francisco, Boston, New Orleans, and my hometown Atlanta.

None can compare to New York, however. Its restaurants, its museums, its theaters, its skyline, its spirit and character--all of which I like. Its sports teams, its flagship newspaper, its traffic, its mostly liberal politics--none of which I like. But that's just it! New York has everything, whether you like it or not. It is big and brawny and sprawling, loud and boisterous, busy and action-filled, so deal with it.

Who will ever forget the way the city dealt with 9/11 and its immediate aftermath? New York took a punch and got back up again. It asked for help, but not sympathy, and our nation responded accordingly. In the process it won the admiration of America, if not the world.

I remember a visit my wife and I made to the city at Christmas, 2003. We visited Ground Zero, took in a show, and shopped the stores. But the moment I remember most vividly was when a FDNY engine passed in the street. I gave a salute to a fireman looking my way, and he returned the salute. From one American to another. If 9/11 had been a quick little glimpse into hell, then our witness to the bravery of those firefighters on that unforgettable day gives us all a lift, a pride, an appreciation for our people's spirit, and the spirit of our greatest city. Who can ever forget that bravery? That resilience? That quintessential New York can-do attitude?

It is the greatest city in the world.

A Presidential Visit

President Barack Obama visited my city, Atlanta, today. He gave a speech at a downtown hotel to the Disabled Veterans of America. His address spanned several topics, to include updates on the efforts in Iraq and Afghanistan. And, of course, there was the requisite political posturing that comes with any presidential appearance.

With regard to politics and positions, I don't have enough in common with this president's policies to fill up a thimble. He's on one end; I'm on the other. And we'll stay that way, I'm quite certain.

But today the president struck the right tone and chose the right words to express his admiration for America's veterans, especially those who have been disabled by their service in war. President Obama was respectful and appreciative, and more than once he underscored his commitment to take care of the men and women who have served and suffered in taking care of this nation.

Some issues transcend politics, and the care of America's disabled veterans is clearly one of those. I got the distinct impression today that the president understands that. I can only speak for myself--a healthy, non-disabled vet--but I'm glad President Obama gave a salute to the many thousands of wounded and disabled veterans of this nation. And I'm glad he came to my city to do it.

I return the salute, Mister President.

Where Are The Heroes?

Do we live in a society that no longer has heroes? Have we become so indifferent and cynical that men and women doing heroic things are seldom reported and hardly noticed, and consequently never celebrated or emulated? Are we too sophisticated to become caught up in something as yesterday as a hero?

And if so, where did our heroes go?

Admittedly, it's a stretch to find public officials nowadays whose behavior could be considered heroic. If anything, based upon the sheer number of ethics complaints and court proceedings, the opposite is often more descriptive. Our Hollywood celebrity culture provides an endless supply of beautiful but shallow, egocentric, sparsely talented individuals who provide us with an entertainment outlet not just with their "craft," but also with their antics and opinions.

The sporting world has become so soiled with cheating, pampered, self-absorbed athletes and coaches, and so driven by college and professional organizations that devalue longstanding virtues like loyalty and integrity, that past sports giants like Tom Landry and Vince Lombardi would likely be filled with disgust. And the corporate world has recently had more than its share of arrogant industry titans who have lied, bilked, and bullied their way to lifetime riches with an astonishing amount of collateral damage to their companies, customers, and shareholders.

There have been six Medals of Honor awarded to American servicemen during the course of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. How many Americans have seen television or print media coverage of these men? How many Americans know the names of all six? Or perhaps just one? And is this confirmation that we no longer have any heroes?

No. We still have heroes. The skill and calmness of U.S. Airways pilot Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger who, with an airplane full of crew and passengers, landed the stricken jetliner safely in the Hudson River, captivated the nation. We will never forget the incomprehensible bravery of the FDNY firefighters as they climbed the smoke-filled stairwells of the World Trade Center towers on September 11, 2001. The outpouring of goodwill toward New Orleans Saints quarterback Drew Brees was as much about his efforts in offering a helping hand to a still-reeling post-Katrina community as it was his Super Bowl victory.

Americans still pull their fellow citizens from rain-swollen rivers. Single moms hold jobs and raise kids and sometimes even manage to go back to school. Cancer victims fight back against their disease, often against overwhelming odds, and still make contributions to their communities or companies or churches. They are heroes, all. We are still a nation that needs its heroes, even without the high profile, to provide us with examples to follow, to cause us to remember our past, to give us reason for hope and encouragement.

And we still have men and women in uniform who are as heroic as any previous generation. By the way, the following Medal of Honor awardees are genuine American heroes:

SFC Paul R. Smith, U.S. Army (posthumous) - Iraq
CPL Jason L. Dunham, U.S. Marine Corps (posthumous) - Iraq
LT Michael P. Murphy, U.S. Navy (posthumous) - Afghanistan
Petty Officer Michael A. Monsoor, U.S. Navy (posthumous) - Iraq
PFC Ross A. McGinnis, U.S. Army (posthumous) - Iraq
SFC Jared C. Monti, U.S. Army (posthumous) - Afghanistan

With gratitude. May they Rest in Peace.