Here's to Mr. Prolific !

My man Ryan Adams is at it again. A new disc, "Cardinology," is due at the end of the month! And like I said in a previous post, the guy can churn out a new album in the time it takes me to put my contacts in. Can't beat that kind of production.

Rest Easy, Butch Cassidy

Hollywood lost one of its old guard yesterday when Paul Newman died at 83. He had a career that spanned generations, a real rarity on the silver screen. My mother had a school-girl crush on him even into her 40's, my dad introduced me to Cool Hand Luke when I was a teenager, and my own boys heard Mr. Newman's craggly voice as Doc Hudson in the Pixar movie "Cars."

It's always sad when somebody dies. When we're talking about someone famous, most of us don't know these people in the least, but we still feel some sense of loss at their passing. Paul Newman reminds me of my childhood. When I hear his name, I think of my mom wearing a tee-shirt with his picture ironed on to it. I think of watching "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" with my brother on channel 20's "Saturday Morning Classics." I'm saddest, though, because Paul Newman seemed like a really good guy, and those kind of people are the greatest loss of all.

In this age when the press seems to glorify all that's bad in the world, Newman was someone who seemed to personify all of its good. He was happily married to the same woman, Joanne Woodward, for over fifty years. A great quote of his came when asked if he was ever tempted to stray on his wife and he replied, "Why would I go out for hamburger when I've got steak at home?" How great is that? Every time I read of another Hollywood break-up, I always wished the same report would tell me how long Newman and Woodward had been married for. We don't celebrate that kind of commitment and success enough these days.

Paul Newman was also an incredible philanthropist. By the time he died, he had given away nearly $200 million dollars!?! That's incredible. He gave away 100% of the profits from his food line "Newman's Own." 100%! Here's some information I found online about some of Paul Newman's other charitable acts.

"Paul Newman is more than just an actor. He is a well-known philanthropist, having given over $175 million dollars to charity from the profits on his Newman's Own food products and he is at it again.

ABC News reports that Mr. Newman and his wife, actress Joanne Woodward, are giving $10 million to Kenyon College in Ohio, which is Newman's alma mater. The money will be used to help start a scholarship fund.

Mr. Newman, 82, who graduated from the private liberal arts school in 1949 with a degree in drama and economics, had this to say about Kenyon. "My days there were among the happiest and most formative of my life. I believe strongly that we should be doing whatever we can to make all higher education opportunities available to deserving students. I hope others will support Kenyon in this manner."

The Newman's Own line was started in 1987 with the intent of it being a small, boutique type operation. Instead it spread like wildfire and is now on grocery store shelves nationwide. The line includes popcorn, salsa, salad dressing, lemonade, steak sauce, and marinades. The expected profit of the business was $1200 a year. In the last 20 years the company's profit has been over $175 million dollars.

In 1988 Mr. Newman donated the funding to create the "Hole in the Wall Gang" camps for children with cancer and other life threatening illnesses. The first camp was opened in Ashford, CT, and there are now 8 camps- five in the United States and 1 each in Ireland, United Kingdom, and France, with more scheduled to be opened in the future. 13,000 children attend the camps each year, free of charge; thanks to the profits from the Newman's Own food products." (courtesy of Associated Content)

This article actually fails to mention another $250,000 that Newman and his wife donated to Kosovo refugees in 1999.

In the end, Paul Newman probably lived as full and as fulfilling of a life as a person can live. He showed the importance of giving time and time again. It's a lesson for us all to think about.

Rest easy, Butch Cassidy.

The Great Race

I did a triathlon earlier this month. I told a friend about it when I signed up, not so much so that he would sign up too but because he was an experienced runner and I thought I might go to him with any questions I had about training, conditioning, workouts, etc. Coincidentally, he had been considering doing a triathlon himself and my involvement ended up presenting him with a great opportunity.

Honestly, I didn’t really want my buddy to do it. I had my own personal reasons for signing up. This was going to be a great mid-life challenge and a chance to reinvent myself. I really didn’t want to worry about anyone else. I didn’t want to compete against anyone but myself… MY will. My desire to quit or go on. My conditioning. It wasn’t that I was concerned that he would beat me. Of course he would beat me. The guy can go out and run six miles at a moment’s notice! I just wanted this to be about me. I wanted to complete the race because I was pushing myself, not being pushed by what I thought someone else was doing. In the end, it was probably a pretty selfish concept. I even dissuaded my brother-in-law from signing up, but that was the way I felt.

My buddy ended up signing up any way. In the beginning, he was kind of a jerk about it. He’d ask our friends who they thought would win between us. It kind of pissed me off, but I kept it to myself. I’m totally down with trash-talking and macho swagger, but his over-competitiveness just irked me. He was making it about US, which is exactly what I never wanted it to be.

In the end it all worked out though. My friend simmered down and we talked all summer long about how we were progressing. Whereas I was weak at running, his forte, he wasn’t so strong at swimming, my best sport of the event. Via email we’d kind of boost each other’s spirits. He’d write about how impressed he was with my running times. When he told me about how far he was swimming, I kept telling him how happy he should be with what he was accomplishing. All of the he-man bs was gone. We were just two guys encouraging one another. Not one time over the summer did “you vs me” ever come up. It was really cool and I ended up being really happy that this was something we could talk about and share.

When the race came, we ended up being ranked according to our swimming time. By virtue of that being my strength, I was fifty spots ahead of him going into the pool, which meant that he started probably eight minutes or so after I did. As we were getting ready, I joked, “Just don’t pass me at any point,” since him doing that after I had such a lead would be pretty funny. We laughed, wished each other luck, and got going.

The final leg of the race, the run, was an up and back trail, so technically you could see someone coming who was just starting out as you were finishing. I won’t say that I didn’t wonder where my friend was, but honestly I just was concerned about finishing without stopping and crossing the finish line. Not long after I made the halfway-point turnaround, I ended up seeing him coming the other way down the path. He looked at me and said, “Keep it going, baby.” I knew he was close. I knew his running pace was much much faster than mine and that he might catch me, but again, I didn’t really care what he was doing. I cared that I was about to finish a triathlon, and I was pretty happy about that.

As I made the last turn, I saw the straightaway to the finish. I could hear people cheering. I saw the finish line in front of me. All of a sudden, right as I came to the end, I felt a hand on my back and heard, “After you, my friend.” I saw that my buddy was there beside me, graciously NOT beating me in the end when he easily could have. He later told me, “We kind of went through this whole thing together. I thought in the end that we should finish it together too.”

It’s been nearly a month since the race. I still marvel at what I accomplished. I basically got off the couch after ten years and became a runner. I started out not being able to run half a mile. I ended up being able to do over four. I ended up being able to run a 5k AFTER I had swam a ¼ mile and biked over twelve. I’m so proud of proving to myself that you can do anything that you set your mind to. But even though so much of this was FOR me and ABOUT me, the thing I keep coming back to is the grace and humility of my friend. Competition these days seems to be filled with so much negativity. We watch professional athletes taunt each other. We watch them pose and glorify themselves after making a single play. We watch them selfishly destroy the thrill of competition and the cohesive beauty that is sportsmanship and athletic camaraderie. It’s easy to forget how positive sports really can be.

Though I know I’ll remember my first triathlon experience for a long time, I’ll also never forget the actions of a true friend and a real athlete. I’m sure there were competitors that day whose physical accomplishments should be celebrated, but the character my friend showed that day eclipses all of them.

Thanks, Ryan.