Five Finger Friends

Today was a glorious day. Cool, crisp, breezy and the cloudless blue sky made for sunbeams so sharp all shadows had distinctly defined edges. It was an edgy day. A great day for a Harley ride along the Chattahoochee. And even better I got to catch up with two of my Five Finger Friends. First stop in Alpharetta to visit with Michael and Joyce whose friendship goes back to my first job out of college at WESH-TV in Daytona Beach, Florida. Michael was a cameraman at the station and helped me get started in the business. I a fresh faced kid, and he a Vietnam Vet making his way in the business world.  It was fourty years ago we met.  Although it has been a few years since we have seen each other or even talked.  No matter, it seemed like yesterday. That is the way it is with Five Finger Friends. I love you Michael.


Then it was off to Buckhead to meet up with a group of folks gathering at the trendy Hal's On Old Ivey. This group was coming together to celebrate the retirement of my friend John, Faith partner and former boss who I worked for and with over 15 years. Our friendship goes back more than 25 years and has grown since I left the employ of the same company he is now retiring from.  It is a beverage alcohol distributing company with strong Atlanta roots.  I am most happy for John as I believe his life will now begin to open up in new and exciting ways! I love you John.


 
Five Finger Friends
 
Your call is never screened
No time of the day
Is unusual
Days, weeks, years
Does not matter how long,
The place in the heart is the same
 
In a lifetime this friendship
this closeness, the respect, the love
Comes from within
If by divine appointment
Your lives intersected at
The most propitious moment
Sometimes more than once
Because we  were not awake
Enough, enough
How many will we have?
The neon lights up:
TRUE FRIEND
How many in a lifetime?
We can count them on one hand!
 
Bradford Bosworth
April 2015
 


Light in a Dark World


 

Stand on Principle


This past Sunday after work I sat down to watch the Masters wind down to finish. At first glance the event was all but won by this seemingly inexperienced no name youth experiencing the glow of beginners luck.  Having traded in my sticks and clear days for my Harley-Davidson Softail Standard I have lost touch with who’s who of the PGA tour.

Drawn by the color and mystique and tradition of Augusta National I found myself at first resistant to the hyperbole of the announcers and their praises of the young tournament leader from Dallas, Texas. Twenty-one years old and breaking all youth related scoring benchmarks I soon began to experience a wonderment of how this young man was conducting himself. It reached crescendo with his walk up the eighteenth fairway onto the final green and the enormity of the event struck me as the cameras focused on his family waiting with elation of what son and brother Jordan was accomplishing. This witness via television was welled up with teary-eyed emotion as 21-year-old Jordan Spieth sealed the deal with a short putt. And then I watch as Jordan parted the sea of awe struck fans on his way to the Butler Cabin.  It was Grace on display for the world to see. 

 

 

And that was not the end as shortly thereafter I watched a 60 Minutes expose on a life lived on firm Truth. This story was of Mike Pressler a leader of young men not unlike Jordan Spieth. Mike Pressler is a Lacrosse Coach - as a matter of fact the reigning National College Lacrosse “Coach of the Year”.  He was also the head coach of the same Duke Lacrosse team that was falsely accused of gang rape nine years ago.  That case is perhaps one of the greatest travesties of misjustice in my adult lifetime.  Coach Pressler was the only Duke employee to lose his job in the scandal that would see all team members exonerated. He lost his job because he knew his players and believed them when none of the authorities did. He refused to turn his back and distance himself from his boys. He stood by them when the college community did not and for that loyalty he lost his job.  Mike Pressler was loyal to his players but more he was loyal to the truth. He stood by his team. He stood by his principles.

 

It took me till Monday afternoon and little help from Rush Limbaugh to understand the significance of what I experienced from these two stories. In the chaotic world that we live in - a world full of false premises -  Jordan Spieth and Mike Pressler were beacons of light showing us that there is a still a lot of light in a dark world. Thank God for that! Amen

 

For more on Mike:





For more on Jordan:


 

What goes around....



First


In March of 1980 while working at Charlotte Motor Speedway (CMS) in the PR department I was sent to Daytona for “Bike Week”. My objective was to gain some insight and establish contacts in and around the motorcycle racing community. Our CMS facility was to host a Motorcycle racing event in the coming months and I needed to learn about this two wheeled racing sport. Up until that time most of my background in racing involved NASCAR and IMSA sports car racing.

 
I cannot tell you who won the main event (Daytona 200) that year but I can tell you of a young man whose presence and persona was striking to me.  I really was not familiar and did not know of his name but the first time I encountered him his following impressed me.  He was remarkable in his fullness of spirit and exuberance.  There was a sparkle in his eye.  He was a diminutive figure short in stature, slight in build. He had the body of a jockey or gymnast and, I was to learn, ideal for motorcycle racing.

 
I was only to encounter Dale Singleton in close passing with no spoken words. I was an observer quietly noting an ascending star.  There was a greater story to unfold. It was a story of miracles and jubilation as well as tragedy and devastating heartbreak.  It was years later when his and my paths would cross again. To be continued…..

****


See my previous blog post “Foxhole Prayer” 2/1/15 for more on Dale and also click on this link:



 
BB
4/15
 


Renaissance Days

 
Fellowship of the Fallen
 
 
 


Something special occurred last evening.  A group of men came together at a home in Smyrna, Georgia and gathered in the living room of a friend, confidant and mentor to many. This living room of a home where love abounds on a quiet cul de sac in Cobb County had been rearranged to accommodate a medical bed for the man who struggled for the better part of four months in hospitals and rehab centers from complications of an aging broken back and accompanying surgical procedures.  At a point during this ordeal, I am told; he knocked on death’s door.  It did not open. It was not Warren’s time.

 

His neighbors surely wondered or peeked through their shades as an assortment of vehicles, from white-collar executive sedans to work trucks of carpenters and electricians, lined the curves. Surely the loud pipes of an arriving Harley-Davidson garnered some attention as well.

 

Inside it was borderline standing room only as we took turns sharing our experience, strength and hope with one another. God’s Grace was overflowing among a group whose ages spanned some thirty years and across two generations. It was nothing for this group to expand their long workdays to serve in this way.  In the end this fellowship of the fallen stood in a circle, held hands with Warren and prayed The Lord’s Prayer.
 

“Sobriety itself is today’s high, for it is ultimately in the most centered consciousness that we find our power to transcend the world.”

Marianne Williamson, “Illuminata” Renaissance

 
Bradford Bosworth
April 2, 2015

A Carnivore's Paradise

  (Writer’s Note: In my upcoming book “ Angel Food Cake” A Forty Day Devotional for an Upside/Down World, there are stories referencing ange...

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