Create, Don't Fix

I built a bird feeder. A simple fly-through to attract cardinals. I'd seen one hanging around my other feeders and wanted to make it easier for him to eat. As you can see, it's already attracted a lot of business. So far the cardinal is interested, but not a customer.

For me, the project was an accomplishment. I'm not handy with tools or figuring out mechanical things. And while the feeder was roughly equivalent to building a two-foot by two-foot sandbox, at least I designed it and figured out how to suspend it, discovering turnbuckles in the process.

Fresh from that success, I decided to push my luck and repair my leaky kitchen faucet. A plumber told me that Moen provides a lifetime guarantee on their equipment. I called, they sent the necessary parts--three small rubber seals, with instructions--and I went to work. Removing the faucet itself was easy, giving me a false sense of confidence. The two old seals (14 years, original equipment) were more challenging, but I got them off.

I installed the new seals, reassembled it and turned on the water. It wasn't a leak...it was a stream. It threatened to fill one side of my triple sink. . . quickly. I toyed with it for a moment, shut off the water and moved to plan B: Call the plumber. He arrived and bailed me out.

Hence, the title: Create, Don't Fix.

Go Ahead...Toss It

Obviously that was the message on the minds of car occupants travelling near my home over the winter.

Each spring, when the snow melts, I walk a 3/10-mile stretch and pick up four months of accumulated litter. This year, it was 65 separate pieces in that short stretch: pop and beer cans, beer and whiskey bottles, empty cigarette packs, fast food sacks, six-pack cartons, paper napkins, paper towels, just plain junk etc. etc.

And that's one brief stretch, in one small township, in a tiny corner of northern Wisconsin and ignores a similar stretch on nearby--very busy--State Highway 13.

So, as we mark the 40th anniversary of Earth Day, let's bear in mind that its creator, Gaylord Nelson, characterized the task of restoring and preserving our earth as "...the toughest challenge man has ever faced..."

And how about taking a small first step by keeping a litter bag as permanent equipment in our car?

Role models and morality plays

His fans say "He's a great golfer--his personal life is his business." But...as a multi-million dollar investment for well-known companies and a role model for kids taking up the game, is that greatness still intact, still genuine? Especially as the saturation coverage of his carefully-scripted return gave way to Phil Mickelson overcoming both the competition and concern about the health of his wife and his mother.

As a kid, my life was about sports. Everything...all the time. My first job was writing sports at a daily paper in Wisconsin. Perhaps, I thought, a first step toward Sports Illustrated, then my guiding light to great sports writing. Sports gave way to the realities of life. And my years-ago passion for sports has evolved to a different level, as even SI finds it can't avoid devoting space to such topics as: loaded guns in locker rooms, ex-White House spokesmen designing apologies for wayward sports figures and various overpaid athletes sending very private photos of themselves to the world.

For me, a childhood world of sports has drifted into an uncomfortable mismash of misplaced priorities--mostly over money--like a 96-team Big Dance. Which is why the Masters was really a morality play...with the perfect ending at the final curtain.