Legendary basketball coach John Wooden loved only one woman in his entire life, his wife Nellie. For more than two decades after Nellie died, he wrote a love letter to her each month on the anniversary of her death. This video of John Wooden shows a simple but profound man who found the real secret to a happy life. LOVE.
Do “Looney” Cartoon Characters Show Signs of Mental Illness?
It’s a hotbed of psychopathology rivaling that of any daytime soap opera. These individuals cover the entire spectrum of mental illness as outlined by the psychiatrist’s bible, the so called DSM-IV (revised).
I am referring, of course, to the stable of unstable “Retro” cartoon characters to which Warner Brothers subjects our children on a regular basis.
The Other Side of Me: Make Lemonade
After thinking that I was going insane, the truth was somehow comforting. At least I knew I wasn’t the crazy Mad Woman. In a strange way, everything started to make sense.
Classroom Cleaning
A teacher sets about cleaning his classroom before the summer session begins and discovers lots of dust, reminders of how much the tools of teaching have changed over the years, and the awareness that in the classroom or int he home, clutter is still clutter.
Philosopoetic Innovation Part I: The Game of Life
Mary Rose ponders the rules of life and speculates that we should really just play for the sake of playing. Or should we?
Did Epilepsy Lead to the Foundation of Christianity?
Did an epileptic seizure lay the groundwork for Christianity to spread through the Roman Empire two thousand years ago? Writer and doctor George Burden takes readers on a fascinating journey of medical discovery.
Living Our Best Lives Now!
We often hear people say, “Well, I wouldn’t be who I am today without my past.” Yes, I would agree that we are products of the experiences that lay behind us; however, I would also argue that the past is not what defines who we are in this present moment.
The Other Side of Me: I’m Screaming Down Here
My memories of my father start before I was five, then disappear until I reach 14. Those were the years of the abuse and torture. After I turned 14, everything changed. I believe now that’s the time when my mother learned the truth…
The Long, Slow Summers of Youth
The children of summer, the children we once were, don’t read or watch or worry about the weather, they wear it in their skin. Skin wet with a recent shower, or glowing red from a little too much lazing in the sun, it matters not to them. For what these kids have is not only time, as in available hours, but the time of their lives.
Scribbling After Midnight
We were sitting in the Drenched Beagle in Vancouver when a guy from the bar asked me, “Where are we?” “Here.” I said. Later he asked, “What time is it?” “Now,” I said.
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