Being a Cheerleader
Kris Szlauko
With the thought of a cheerleader, an image of a pretty, petite, scantily clad girl waving pom-poms around comes to mind. A cheerleader has epitomized the art of cheering to a meaningless routine. Her skills, even though polished and practiced, are mechanical. Even her smile is well rehearsed.
The practice of cheerleading in life situations is a real art. Encouraging anyone to accomplish a goal by offering kind words and positive enthusiasm can be challenging.
Parents, with hearts in their throats, knowing the consequences of a mis-step, cheer on a baby’s first steps. Walking, after all, is the first step of a lifetime of steps that a child will take towards total independence. Cheering on your children’s successes is bittersweet at best. You want them to find their talents and their way in life, but that means you have very little control over their decision making and the outcomes. All a parent can do is cheer for talents that encourage good, wholesome outcomes and good moral character.
Cheering on a spouse takes on another form. Being a cheerleader with a spouse can be considered being pushy. There is, after all, a fine line between encouragement and nagging. Complimenting a spouse on a job well done when he remembers to take the trash out can backfire into a dispute about all the other “non-cheerable times”! I have found a neutral statement like, “Thank you,” or a smile of approval to be the best cheering tactic.
Cheering on friends can be tricky as well. The timing must be perfect. Cheering someone’s actions too soon may make it appear that you are nosey, prying, and pushy. Too long after the fact can appear that you are just wanting to get on the bandwagon and join in on the coattail of someone else’s success. The best strategy is: Stay inquisitive, be sensitive to their accomplishment signals, and then encourage as they show signs of mastering the task.
All in all, one thing about cheerleading is to know when enough is enough. Too much cheering when a task is completed could give the cheered the idea that you had your doubts that they could not complete the task at hand. Too little cheering could mean that you are patronizing the cheered on a trivial task.
It is true we do not have the luxury of a cute, scanty outfit or pom-poms but, nevertheless, our cheerleading skills must be a true practiced art. Everyone appreciates a well-placed, sincere, heartfelt, “Job well done,” or a “I knew you could do it,” or just a “Thank you!”
Extraordinary
F. David Rolf
It seems that I recall a man with an ordinary life.
He had a job—worked 8 to 5—went home to see his wife.
The way he spent his time at home was ordinary, too.
He’d do some chores or mow the lawn, did nothing that was new.
His wife was happy as could be for him to be this way
Because an ordinary man like him, she felt, would never stray.
And then one day, while he worked hard, he thought of something new.
“I realize my place in life, just don’t know what to do.
An ordinary man, am I, but do not want to be.
I need excitement in my life, a plan to set me free.”
So he began to socialize. He met new friends each day.
Then joined a club where folks were fun. He fit in right away.
He told his wife of his new plan, so she could join him now.
It might be hard for her to change, but she would try somehow.
So making friends and going places, they simply wanted more.
With the lifestyle they now have, their friends just watched them soar.
For years on end their friendships grew. They had a happy life.
That caused reflection from years past, by his lovely wife.
She had thought, to change her mate, would make her awfully wary.
But now she’s thrilled, from head to toe—for he’s Extraordinary.
Batman Lives!
Lee Murray
In survey after survey of the most trustworthy occupations, healthcare workers rank at the top of the list. A Forbes magazine poll found nurses ranked number one followed by medical doctors and pharmacists at number three, an occupation ranked as trustworthy by 66% of the general public.
Though his job at the local drug store paid the bills and then some, Clark Devaney tired of spending a good 50 hours a week stuffing pills in bottles, answering non-stop calls from doctor offices, and fighting with managed care companies about patient coverage and reimbursements.
By the end of the week, Clark felt if he had to field one more question on the side effect profile of the latest antibiotic, he thought he’d lose his mind.
Fortunately, he had a hobby that provided him respite from the drudgery. He loved to pursue cosplay, short for costume play. Ever since he was a small boy, he fell in love with the character Batman by watching the old TV series featuring Adam West and Burt Ward as his sidekick. He begged his mom to buy him a costume of the caped crusader, and each Halloween he would emerge as the hero of Gotham City going door to door with his trick or treat bag intoning to homeowners with his most avuncular eight-year-old voice, “I am vengeance, I am the night, I am Batman!” The people in the neighborhood got a big kick out of this little kid playing the superhero from DC comics, always on the lookout for nefarious characters.
Most kids outgrow their fascination with their superheroes. Not Clark, though, and he discovered that he was far from alone. Each year in July, over 130,000 would-be villains, superheroes, and cartoon characters descend on San Diego for the Comic-Con convention where attendees get to dress up in their costumed character of choice and live out their cosplay fantasy for four days in a row.
Clark was fascinated by his first trip to Comic-Con, adorned in his now grown-up Batman costume complete with authentic mask and cape. Over the time he was at the convention, he met every cosplay role player imaginable from Superman to Spider-Man, Captain Marvel to Cat Woman, Wonder Man to Wonder Woman, Dumbo to Dumbledore. Even little kids got into the act, as parents dressed their little ones in everything from Superbaby to Baby Yoda.
Clark had an absolute blast at his Comic-Con debut and so did the other attendees. Since his first convention 20 years ago, he’s been a regular where, for just a few days once each year, he can trade in his staid white pharmacist jacket for his beloved Batman costume and enjoy himself to the nth degree.
Other than at Comic-Con, Clark’s Batman costume seldom sees the light of day unless, of course, he and his wife are invited to a masquerade party in the neighborhood where, once again, the Bruce Wayne of registered pharmacists emerges as Gotham City’s superhero keeping everyone safe from prowling Riddlers, Penguins, and Jokers.