​It often takes a change-of-pace to help you remember blessings. And the revelation can come about in strange ways.
 
We’re currently having a woman stay with us who is interning at the local Wildlife in Need Center (WINC). She’s an avowed “forager.” I’d never really thought about that before.

She likes to go in the woods and check for wild things to eat. She knows what’s nutritious, what tastes good, what’s poisonous. All good things to have an understanding of.
 
I’m not much of a plant person. I see mushrooms in the forest and think, “There’s a mushroom. They sure pop up after a rain shower.”
 
I don’t think whether I will pick and eat them because I know I won’t do that. I don’t have that knowledge or inclination to find out.
 
What she has shown me in the brief time living with us though is that there is a wealth of consumables that keep the wildlife fed and healthy around our property. We have deer, turkeys, chipmunks, rabbits, fox, raccoons, possums, multiple birds and more.  A bit of a mini ecosystem that stays healthy and finds what’s necessary to survive.

As part of her job, she brings foraged plants, nuts, berries, grasses and other consumables to the animals they are rehabilitating from injury. Through her expeditions into the woods and listening to her about what she’s found, I’ve developed a new awareness of how blessed we are on this spot of land.
 
We not only feed all these wild beasts on our property, but could probably survive ourselves, if necessary, by intelligently capturing some of those same nuts, berries and wild greens. Off the top of my head in my limited capacity to describe the abundance of wild consumables, we have acorns, walnuts, apples, pinecones, dandelion leaves and cattails.
 
During the afternoon, I walk our two dogs to the top of our driveway after using the magic word “newspaper” to agitate them and get them motivated to sprint out the front door, knowing a treat will result when we return. They meander west, and I now ponder the harvest dropped by the trees and lurking in the woods.
 
Currently we have blackberries, raspberries, and, recently mulberries, though their season now appear over. More interestingly, because I never thought of it until this summer, we have nuts cascading down on our driveway, cracked, half-eaten or still fully encased in their shells.
 
The past two weeks I’ve gathered walnuts every day, placing them on the counter for the journey to WINC. Green pinecones have been added to that pile when I found they were useful as food for the animals. Just this week, acorns started falling. And, we have two apple trees near the road which are dropping the occasional small apple to the turf.

Yes, we are blessed. The animals in our area are blessed. And, we are blessed to be able to give to WINC to help wildlife in need.
 
We can all too easily forget these things. Sometimes it takes an intern on a mission, someone focused on the entire local ecosystem to help teach you about it. That’s a blessing, too.
 
There’s more out there. I’m still learning. 

​Where have you gone Gary Larson? We need your sense of humor more than ever. Please come back.
 
Let’s see if that message gets us anywhere.

For the uninitiated, Larson penned one panel (for the most part) cartoons syndicated in more than 1,900 newspapers for 15 years ending January 1,1995. His humor focused on using animals to poke fun at humans. It was way more than that, but if you want to summarize, that’s a quick hit for you. Go to Wikipedia for more.
 
He’s returned with some online work the past two years. Maybe you’ve seen it. I think that could be why I’m writing this column.
 
For some reason, his cartoons have begun resurfacing on social media channels. This could be because new content he's generated, or it could be nostalgia from people who have rediscovered his panels and are posting them to share with others.

If it’s the latter, I think those people probably feel much the way I do – that his presence has been lacking for far too long and we need him back. We all need to laugh more. We need to take ourselves less seriously, and see the humor in life.

This does not mean backing off from some of the major problems the world faces. What it means to me is that we all need to take deep breaths with regularity and poke fun at life. We’ll all be better off for this. Humor opens us up, makes us receptive to others, builds connections.
 
The past six months I’ve noticed a distinct trend of Larson’s comics on Facebook in particular. There have been a number of “Calvin and Hobbes” (which are also hysterical and timely), but not to the extent that I’ve seen Larson’s “Far Side.”
 
Each cartoon strikes me freshly. They stand the test of time. I typically laugh, and if I’m not chuckling, at least I’m smiling broadly. Two good things.
 
I have to wonder how many other people feel the need for his humor (or something similar). For many years, I’ve stopped reading the comics in the newspaper. Recently, I started again, partly driven by the small surge of nostalgia from the Far Side panels. There are some decent comic strips currently published.

But none grab me and suck me in like the Far Side. In some way, he broadly caught so many parts of the human condition, using animals to create the barb, and actually get you thinking beyond just the joke he was making. He made you consider the absurdity of some of our actions, and thoughtfully consider why we do some of the crazy things we do.
 
There is so much to be said for all that. For stepping back a bit from our day-to-day lives and pause for a laugh that makes us consider our lives from a different perspective.
 
I don’t know if he necessarily set out to do that with the “Far Side.” He probably just wanted to make people laugh, and figured out a way to do it a way that was consistently excellent.
 
That’s enough, really. To do something that reaches others and brings something out, touches them in some way that refreshes their daily lives is important. Please come back Gary Larson.

​By nature, I am a positive person. I believe we influence those around us through positive actions – verbal, physical, emotional. Far too often these days, people act negatively, criticizing, critiquing, pointing fingers, while failing to see constructively where good things are being done.
 
In my early 40s, I began to read actively on how to successfully provide positive feedback to others so it is received correctly and acted on. Be specific. Be timely. If possible, provide that reinforcement in a public arena.
 
As our kids grew up playing basketball and soccer, I saw many instances where our team parents’ cheering urged the players onto greater heights. Increasing their energy. Seeing the intensity going up.
 
Several clear examples emerged in high school during junior varsity basketball games, where they played in a smaller gym, and our cheering could have greater effect. I can vividly remember multiple games where our team got over the hump in the second half of a close contest as we rocked the stands, thumping with our hands and feet while screaming our lungs out.

Facetiously, I became known as the “Loudest Fan,” and was purchased (by the other parents) one of those canvas seats you sit on in high school gymnasiums, with the phrase etched on the back. I sat in it proudly.

Those days are long gone. I continue to engage in other situations and provide clear support to others when I see good things being done, wanting to encourage and help shape the world just a bit better for all of us.
 
Recently, I went to a senior golf tournament in Madison, WI. The pros are on the older side of age-50. They’ve proven themselves, but still have the competitive drive. It doesn’t take long following them around to see they are still ferocious about winning.
 
The day we went, Retief Goosen was in a signature group that I chose to follow for three holes towards the end of the back nine. On the 16th, a 550-yard par five, he hit his second shot about nine feet below the hole. For those uninitiated to golf, that’s a PHENOMENAL accomplishment. It meant he’d put for an eagle, with is two-under par, a diamond for anybody.
 
When Goosen got to the green, I went nuts, yelling, “GOOSE,” figuring that had to be his nickname. He looked up (I was the ONLY fan surrounding the hole), smiled and tipped his cap.

As he stalked his putt, I threw out a few more supportive comments. He lined it up carefully, and knocked it home for his eagle. I erupted again, at the purity of his long shot into the green and his putt. He acknowledged me again.
 
He and his partners exited for the par three 17th hole through the ropes, and I came down to follow to watch their dastardly tough tee shots. As he walked, he turned to me, took his ball, smiled, then tossed it to me. I thanked him. He smiled wryly. It was a small gesture that made my day. Perhaps I made his. I don’t know.
 
I will keep the ball. I wrote “GOOSE” on it, the hole the shot occurred on, and the year, 2021. I’m not an autograph kinda guy, but will look back at it fondly in the years ahead. In fact, I plan to return next year, and maybe add some more positive cheering to the day. See what happens. It will be fun.

​I’ve been asked multiple times why I’ve returned to officiating basketball after an 18-year hiatus. “Why subject yourself to all the abuse from fans and coaches?”
 
“You couldn’t pay me enough to get out there.”
 
Those are the types of comments you often hear. Along with many more that give you a negative impression of what it’s like to serve as a basketball referee.
 
Keying on the word “serve” gives you a better perspective on why I love being out there, and why many of us continue running the hardwood even though our bodies are screaming for us to stop. We enjoy serving the game. We want to make it better.

There are other broad basic categories that keep us going, like, “I love the game. I’m giving something back to the sport. It’s great exercise. The camaraderie with other officials is a blast. I’m ON THE COURT being involved in the contest, and that’s exciting. If you don’t have good officials, you don’t have a high quality contest.” The list goes on.

More specifically, I’ve had a few things occur the past two years or so that stand out and remind me why officiating basketball is fun, poignant and a life-learning experience on a regular basis. Take a fifth grade girls game as an example.

This occurred in the fall of 2019. I watched a stick-thin girl come into the contest, clearly something physically wrong with her. Based on her lack of hair, shrunken limbs and some other physical issues, it was very apparent she was likely undergoing cancer treatment or for some other disease. Yet, here she was battling on the court.
And, I mean BATTLING. She got in there and started bodying her opponent down to the hoop. Shorter and easily 50 pounds lighter, she didn’t back down.  I marveled at the sight, my heart warming, getting emotional, just seeing this kid out there on the court wanting to do her best and give it her all. That keeps you wanting to referee.
 
I bumped into her and her dad in the hallway afterwards, congratulating her on how well she played and her effort. Near the end of the game, she canned a three-pointer. You would have thought she won the NCAA Division I women’s championship game on a buzzer beater. Her smile (and her father’s) beamed when I congratulated her.
 
This past season, I officiated a girls’ junior varsity high school game. Nothing unusual. I wore a mask, all the players wore masks, as did the coaches and fans. The game proceeded.
 
In the second half, we put a girl on the free throw line for two shots. An opponent lined up, looked at her, and said, “I really like your face mask.”

The girl about to shoot the free throw smiled, and said, “Thank you.” Then she made both shots.
 
I cracked up. I’ve probably told that story a dozen times I found it so amusing that in the middle of a pandemic this simple little statement from one adolescent to another could make my day.
 
Those are the actions that keep me going. You don’t think about them beforehand. They just “happen” in the course of a game. You might be emotionally touched by an incident, you might laugh, you might ponder something later that evening while sipping a beer. Who knows?
 
What I do know is this: There is always something new happening on the court, and if you aren’t out there, you don’t get to see or hear it. Get in the game.