A Paean to Records
Within the last two days I’ve read of two impressive records—one is a physical feat and the other a collection of objects all having one common similarity.
Both accomplishments required long term diligence, a somewhat obsessive compulsion to keep going, and a desire to announce the record. In fairness people love to read of records broken and new winners lauded.
Setting a physical record is done for the personal satisfaction of knowing that you could do it—whatever that may be—Mt Everest or a run around the block.
Every day someone breaks a record—either personal or communal. When I taught learning disabled readers I witnessed record after record smashed. Bernie, who reached the age of twelve and still couldn’t read primers, finally—after hours of hard work and eclectic instruction— put it together and read a skateboard magazine.
I went to elementary school with a boy who loved to memorize the batting averages of all the professional baseball players. At the end of the season he’d then transcribe them into a book. By high school his interest waned. I always wondered what happened to his pages and pages of statistics.
Writing a blog post every day and using the word release is my own personal record, but it will only mean something if I can figure out where I’m going.
There’s a man in San Francisco who has been building a toothpick structure for the last thirty-four years. That’s persistence—and over one million toothpicks.
Both accomplishments required long term diligence, a somewhat obsessive compulsion to keep going, and a desire to announce the record. In fairness people love to read of records broken and new winners lauded.
Setting a physical record is done for the personal satisfaction of knowing that you could do it—whatever that may be—Mt Everest or a run around the block.
Every day someone breaks a record—either personal or communal. When I taught learning disabled readers I witnessed record after record smashed. Bernie, who reached the age of twelve and still couldn’t read primers, finally—after hours of hard work and eclectic instruction— put it together and read a skateboard magazine.
I went to elementary school with a boy who loved to memorize the batting averages of all the professional baseball players. At the end of the season he’d then transcribe them into a book. By high school his interest waned. I always wondered what happened to his pages and pages of statistics.
Writing a blog post every day and using the word release is my own personal record, but it will only mean something if I can figure out where I’m going.
There’s a man in San Francisco who has been building a toothpick structure for the last thirty-four years. That’s persistence—and over one million toothpicks.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home