My Discussion Regarding the Milwaukee Bucks and Their Series Loss to the Indiana Pacers

Folks, I have neglected my blog lately. I am sorry about that. I’ve been running out of hours in the day, and writing, whether it’s blogging or some fiction or whatever else, is taking a big backseat to Life (TM) these days. But as I am a fan of the Milwaukee Bucks, and as they were in the playoffs, I made sure to either listen or watch every single game this past week. (Considering I try to listen or watch every game during the regular season as well, that’s not too surprising.) And I have some thoughts.

Here we go.

I was fortunate enough to watch the Bucks play the Pacers in their last two playoff games (I listened to the others). I was seriously impressed by how hard the Bucks played despite their overall series loss to the Pacers (more on this in a bit). They were brilliant in Milwaukee in Game Five, which they needed to be in order to force Game Six in Indiana. One of their two big stars, Damian Lillard, played in Game Six after having to sit out the two previous playoff games, and did rather well, especially considering he was dealing with a strained Achilles tendon. He led all scorers, in fact…but despite good defense from nearly every Bucks player (including Lillard, and his forte is definitely not defense), the Bucks ran out of gas. They lost, 120-98, and the Pacers now advance to the next round.

Mind you, the game was not quite as lopsided as the score says. The Bucks coach, Doc Rivers, took most of his players — the starters, the main bench people, etc. — out of the game starting at around the four-minute mark. I believe the Bucks were down by sixteen at that point, and while that’s potentially doable if someone like Lillard hit a bunch of three-point shots and the extremely tired and gassed defense was able to get four or five stops in a row, it would’ve been a very long shot. I think Rivers did the right thing in pulling out guys like Lillard, Bobby Portis, Khris Middleton (who had a brilliant series of his own, especially in Games Four and Five), Patrick Beverley (aka “PatBev”), and Brook Lopez. Those guys should all hold their heads up, as they did the best they could all the way around.

Why do I say this? Because the biggest star on the Bucks, Giannis Antetokounmpo, was not able to play at all. He averaged something like forty points a game against Indiana, even though the Bucks as a whole had not done all that well against them. So, if you count him, and you see all these other players doing what they just did in stepping their games way up (or in Middleton’s case, reminding everyone why he was an All-Star a few years ago), I think at minimum the Bucks would’ve forced Game Seven in Milwaukee. At maximum, they would’ve won.

One stat for Game Five tells pretty much the whole story. There had never before been a playoff team, without its top two scorers (in the Bucks case, those were Lillard and Giannis), that had actually won a playoff game before. But the 2023-4 Bucks did just that. Middleton and Bobby Portis (a Sixth Man of the Year candidate; he finished third for the second year in a row) both scored twenty-nine points, and had twelve and ten rebounds, respectively. In addition, PatBev played the point position and passed the ball around — something he usually is not called upon to do — and scored thirteen points with twelve assists. Center Brook Lopez also scored twelve points. The Bucks played outstanding defense, held the Pacers to just 92 points in Game Five, and beat them 115-92.

In other words, without Giannis and Lillard, they were more like the “little team that could” (except for how tall they are, of course). They believed in themselves, and it showed. It was good that they got one more win at home and got to hear the love from the Milwaukee fans, because they really did pour it all out onto the floor.

So, the Bucks should hold their heads high despite losing the series to the Pacers. They did their best. Lillard came back in Game Six, and, while obviously not healthy, scored twenty-eight points and played far better defense than I’d expected. Portis had twenty points and fifteen rebounds. (The Indiana crowd hates Portis, so this was I hope some small amount of solace for Portis going into the offseason.) Lopez played one of his best games of the year, scoring twenty points and pulling down five rebounds. PatBev, while obviously tired and injured — he’d been playing despite an oblique injury for the past several weeks — again pulled down five assists and scored six points. (Remember, he’s not usually called upon to do either one. He was used primarily as a defensive “energy” guy, which makes sense: Beverley has been a member of the NBA All-Defensive Team three separate times.)

I was — am — happy with my favorite team. I wanted them to win Game Six just as much as they did…well, maybe not quite as much, but certainly I wanted them to win.

They didn’t win, no. But they did their level best. I can’t get angry with any of them.

For other sad Bucks fans out there: You need to remember that in any playoff scenario, a good team is going to go home in round one. Maybe several good teams will go home in round one. It doesn’t matter if it’s the NCAA Basketball Tourney, or the major league baseball playoffs, or the wildcard games in football…a good team or two always ends up going home sooner than expected. Oftentimes, it’s because key players were injured and/or were not able to play up to full capacity.

And we both know who wasn’t able to play at all, while several others couldn’t play up to their full capacity (but did their best and came darned close to it).

What I saw from my favorite team, the Bucks, was perseverance, grit, teamwork, and a never-say-die attitude. I hope most of the players will be back next year (I think it’s a lock that Lillard and Giannis aren’t going anywhere, and I’d be stunned if Middleton went anywhere either), as I think if folks like PatBev (a midseason acquisition) had played with everyone all year long, it’s possible this team would’ve forced Game Seven even without Giannis (a former two-time MVP of the NBA, a past multiple winner of the all-defensive team, and, like Lillard, a member of the all-NBA 75th anniversary team).

What I will take away from this loss is this: You can hold head up high when you do your level best. You may not win all the time. You may not be able to meet your own goals (PatBev said right away he wanted to win the NBA Championship just as soon as the Bucks traded for him; he also had some negative history with Damian Lillard, and said he had to “get right with Dame”). But you will still impress people if you give it your best shot, and most especially if you go outside of your comfort zone and do things completely unexpected of you. (That would hold true for the vast majority of the 2023-4 Milwaukee Bucks.)

Discussing Daughtry’s SFnal, Dystopian Single, “Artificial”

The other day, I heard a new song from Daughtry, the band fronted by former American Idol contestant Chris Daughtry. Daughtry is known mostly for their single “It’s Not Over.” That’s a hopeful song, in its way, about the ups and downs of relationships. But the new song, “Artificial,” definitely is not hopeful. In any way.

“Artificial” is about human beings being supplanted by robots, AIs, synthetics…the world has turned poisonous, and the scenery looks like an old Mad Max movie, which sets the scene for the dystopic lyrics. For example, the second verse includes the lyrics, “No sickness, no dying, no disease/no begging for mercy on your knees. No God, no religion, no beliefs.” This may seem somewhat innocuous, especially to secular humanists, but the choruses definitely aren’t. “Welcome to your worst nightmare. Days are getting dark, you should be scared. It doesn’t have a heart. Plug into the new you…the death of who we are is right here.” (I jumped a few lines down, thus the ellipsis.)

Because Daughtry himself is muscular and fit–especially for age 44–he plays himself being uploaded into the “perfect,” human-looking robot. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, it doesn’t exactly work out.

Now, why did I say fortunately, or maybe unfortunately? Well, in this dystopic nightmare of a world, that’s apparently the only way you’re going to survive. It’s a travesty; it’s not human, as the lyrics say. The whole bit about “no begging for mercy on your knees” is about compassion, and about how the robots–or whatever they are–don’t have any. They’re just beings, without true emotions; they think, but they don’t sleep. They can’t admit to fear, even if they feel it–then again, they don’t feel much of anything–and it’s obviously not the way a human being wants to live.

There is a second level to “Artificial,” though, that’s more relevant to me as a writer and editor. There’s a real problem right now, that’s grown significantly worse in the past five years, with AI programs grabbing hold of people’s work–whether music, art, writing, you name it–and not paying anything for this. If one, single AI was the creation of some guy in his basement who had no money at all, then maybe this wholesale “borrowing” (read: using without paying) would be understandable even if still wrong. However, the AI programs are being developed by some of the biggest and wealthiest companies in the world.

They don’t have an excuse. They should be paying writers, musicians, artists, etc., for the use of their works if they’re going to be used to try to bring about a better and more comprehensive version of AI (artificial intelligence).

So, the lyric “It doesn’t have a heart” in “Artificial” could, conceivably, be talking about Google. Or Microsoft. Or whomever else that’s trying to develop an AI. If they had hearts, working souls, and even an ounce of compassion, they’d not have taken so many different people’s work without paying for it.

They certainly don’t seem to have ethics, either. Or they’d be paying writers, musicians, etc., for their work. As they should.

So, getting back to “Artificial,” Daughtry seems to be saying that in the not-so-distant future, there will be copies of what he does. Purporting to be what he and his band have actually done. (Maybe he’s referring to deep-fakes, in an elliptical way.) But it’s “ice cold, mechanical. Artificial.”

A real musician, a real band, playing in real time (even if it’s recorded and played back in any medium), has a nuance and resonance that, so far anyway, synthetic programs can’t match. The sound, itself, may seem to be easily replicated, but it’s not.

You might be asking, “Barb, what are you talking about? The YouTube video will always play the same version of the song, with no variations.”

But in live performance, there will be variations. There have to be. Every time a piece of music is played, sung, or performed in any way, it’s going to be a little different in one way or another. That’s because it has life. Purpose. A sort of drive that infuses the music, makes it far more than simply numbers on a page represented as notes (and put to lyrics, in the case of Daughtry’s “Artificial”).

In short, music has soul. The best music, made by thoughtful musicians throughout our recorded history, has touched something in us, something profound. (Even something as silly as “Purple People-Eater,” with the lyrics of “one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater,” will make us laugh. Laughter, itself, can be profound in its way. So sayeth I, at any rate.)

Chris Daughtry and the rest of his band, Daughtry, are excellent musicians. They put together songs that tell stories. They have multiple levels in at least some of their songs (as seen with the recent song “Artificial”), which shows a remarkably fluent and in-depth understanding of what they’re trying to do. There’s life to their songs. And just a bit of edginess (which I appreciate), along with outstanding performance values, brings about the best of results.

So, “Artificial” is a departure for Daughtry due to being dystopic. But it’s a welcome one, especially under the circumstances. I hope they write a whole lot more songs about whatever they feel like, as there’s no way an AI could ever reproduce their passion, drive, wit, and ability.

Do not accept substitutes, people. (Further the writer sayeth not.)

Do What Is Right

Folks, whenever I ask myself what I should do next, I hear this: “Do what is right.”

Now, what’s right for me may not be right for you, and vice versa. But what I do know is, if I want to live with myself in any sort of harmony at all, I have to examine whatever I do in the lines of the above.

See, it’s very easy to say, “do what is right.” But doing it? All the time? As best you can? It’s not so easy…but in my case, it’s the only way for me to live with myself.

My view of “do what is right” is quite simple. If it’s ethical; if it’s principled; if it’s honest; if it’s above-board, those are the defining characteristics of that pithy phrase.

The few times I’ve gone against my nature and have tried to compromise my principles (more or less, “go along to get along”), it hasn’t ended well. I have to live an authentic life as well as I’m able, as I’ve discussed many times at my blog already. Doing all of this seems to help me, especially with regards to my creativity. It also helps me to stay grounded.

So, when I see that Millennials and Gen Z are talking about the same things I am, but as if they’re new ideas, I get a bit frustrated.

Why? Well, it seems to me that every generation seems to want to reinvent the wheel. Because of this, knowledge that folks who’ve come before them — either people they meet, or books they read — seems to be lost in the translation.

Hell, what I’m talking about is not new. Marcus Aurelius was the first person known to ever write an autobiography of sorts, called Meditations. He discussed Stoic principles along with various things he saw in his life, and believed the best way to live was in authentic harmony with yourself, as that was the easiest way to coexist with nature and the natural world.

Of course, there are various beliefs about whether Marcus Aurelius wanted this book to be published. He was a Roman Emperor, and as such, everything he did and said and wrote was kept, scrutinized, and analyzed. He knew this, too. But he didn’t let that stop him, insofar as coming up with a way he believed helped him live a good life.

In other words, we’re lucky we have Aurelius’s Meditations, and for more than one reason.

Anyway, think about what the phrase “do what is right” means to you. Is it too simplistic of a philosophy to be useful? Is it perhaps too difficult of a philosophy to wish to aspire to?

Personally, I don’t think it’s difficult at all. Especially if you think about it as the predecessor of the Golden Rule, also known as “do unto others as you wish them to do unto you.”

Our world has many religious philosophies, and many different ways of seeing the world. One thing we all seem to agree upon, though, is that honest, ethical, above-board people are far easier to deal with than dishonest, unethical, unprincipled people.

My hope is that over time, we can find ways to find more common ground rather than less.

I also wish that, as people, we start looking for ways to communicate rather than ways to throw up roadblocks because someone’s a different race, ethnicity, sex, gender, etc.

If you need to see someone who could’ve been a right bastard (excuse my language), but instead chose to behave in as wise a manner as he could — that person being Marcus Aurelius, of course — to understand that life in all its variety should be appreciated rather than besmirched, take a second look at old Marcus’s writing.

After all, at one time, all roads led to Rome.

What Do You Deserve from Your Employer, Or, Meditations on Mike Budenholzer’s Firing from the Milwaukee Bucks

This past week, the Milwaukee Bucks parted ways with their head coach, Mike Budenholzer. The Bucks had the best record in the NBA this past season at 58-24, and had the #1 seed throughout the playoffs. However, this only lasted for one series, as the Bucks were eliminated by the #8 seed, the Miami Heat. It’s because of this disastrous (for pro sports) outcome that Budenholzer was fired.

“Ah, but Barb,” you say. “Your blog’s title is ‘What do you deserve from your employer.’ What does that have to do with the Bucks/Budenholzer situation?'”

My answer: Plenty.

You see, for the second year in a row, the Bucks went out early in the playoffs, though last year the Bucks at least got through the first round and past the #8 seed. (Early, in this context is, “Did not ascend to the NBA Finals.”) The Bucks feature possibly the best player in the NBA, Giannis Antetokounmpo. He’s in his prime right now at age 28, and the Bucks have been built around him for five-plus years now.

I say “five-plus” because Budenholzer was the coach for the past five years. Budenholzer’s record in the regular season was stellar at 271-120, which means the Bucks won almost seventy percent of their games.

Yep. No misprint. That’s how many wins Budenholzer had as the head coach of the Bucks: 271.

Not only that, Budenholzer coached the Bucks to the 2021 NBA Championship. The Bucks hadn’t won a championship in the NBA in fifty years, but they won with “Coach Bud.”

“Barb, you still haven’t gotten to the bit about what the coach deserves from his employer. I assume that’s where you’re going with this?”

Why, yes, dear reader. That is exactly — exactly — what I’m going for, and I’ll tell you why, too.

First, though, I want to explain something else to y’all, some of you who probably don’t know much about professional basketball. When you have the best team in the league, you are expected to win all the time, no matter what.

Including when one of your brothers dies in a car accident, which no one knew about until after the Bucks had lost in five games to the Heat.

See, Coach Bud didn’t want to make the playoffs about him, so he said nothing. But he was grieving. He found out just before game four that his brother had died. And it was in games four and five that some of the coach’s decisions seemed rather odd. But he is the youngest of seven kids. One of his elder brothers died, Budenholzer was being private as is his right about his brother’s passing, but I don’t think the coach understood just how strange grief can be when it comes to anything else. Most particularly the time sense, as when you grieve for someone you loved, nothing seems real for a while. And certainly time seems sometimes like it’s running away, and other times, it seems like it’s stopped.

I don’t know about you, but I think if someone who’s very good at their job, like Coach Bud, has a bad series or makes questionable decisions after his brother dies, I think you should give him a pass. He’s grieving, dammit! His brother’s life was more important than basketball, and yet because he is a professional, and because he’d been with his team all year, he stayed to do his best and coach his team.

I admire that impulse, but it may not have the right one.

That said, the Bucks did way wrong here. They should not have fired Coach Bud, not under these circumstances. Instead, they should’ve hired a top-flight assistant head coach perhaps to work on the defense (as the Bucks’ defense got torched by Heat superstar Jimmy “Buckets” Butler and were completely unable to stop him) and let the coach grieve his brother.

Why? Well, look again at the coach’s record. Think about the fact that two years ago, the Bucks won the NBA Championship for the first time in 50 years with this coach at the helm.

In most cases, employers realize if they have a great employee — and in any case, Coach Bud was just that — but the employee is a bit off due to grief or grieving, even if the employee maybe doesn’t even realize it (it’s possible the coach didn’t), you are supposed to let your employee take time off to deal with his grief.

In other words, you don’t fire the best coach in the NBA because he was off a bit for two games after his brother died. That’s dumb, to put it mildly, and more to the point, it’s an overreaction.

So, what does your employer owe you when you have something awful happen like a death in the family? They owe you time to grieve. They should give you time off from work, with pay, to go bury your sibling in a case like this.

You don’t deserve to be fired.

I don’t know Coach Budenholzer at all. But I do know this. What the Bucks did was classless, not to mention truly horrible behavior under the circumstances. They should not have done this. And as a Bucks fan, I am incensed.

My Thoughts on Linkin Park’s New Song, “Lost”

Folks, the other day, I was listening to the radio in the car (102.9 the Hog, in Milwaukee), and heard a new song from Linkin Park called “Lost.” It’s an extra track they worked on during the time they were recording their second album, Meteora (2003), but never released.

Before I discuss it, I want to first give you the link to the official music video. It’s quite good, even for Linkin Park (which has always been known for its savvy when it comes to videos); there’s a great deal of anime references, along with animated versions of the musicians in Linkin Park…including their late lead singer, Chester Bennington.

I’ve written about Chester before, as I was extremely saddened by his death. Chester was friends with Chris Cornell, the lead singer of Soundgarden and Audioslave (among others); Cornell died about two months before Chester did, and I wrote about his passing at the time.

Anyway, the song “Lost” showcases Chester’s vocals, and is a beautiful rendition of someone trying to find his way out of the morass of despair that life has sent his way. It has at least one odd quirk in that the backing vocals don’t necessarily seem to go with the rest of the song. (If this had been solely Chester with everyone else playing instruments, etc., I think it would be even better, similar to the triumph that was Linkin Park’s single “One More Light” on the same-titled album. Video link for the latter is here.) In hearing these backing vocals with earphones, I found them far less distracting than I did in the car.

Now, why is that? I think it’s because of the mix that went out to the various stations (including the Hog in Milwaukee). Car radios, though they’ve become far more sophisticated in the past fifteen years, still can’t adequately reproduce songs to the same level as a home entertainment system.

Anyway, Chester Bennington was someone everyone in the music business liked. He had a strong work ethic, a gift for music and lyrics and expression and style, and he was generous with his time and friendship. He’d experienced highs and lows and was someone that Limp Bizkit frontman/singer Fred Durst paid tribute to back in 2017 at Spin magazine. “He had a way of making anyone he spoke to feel heard, understood and significant. His aura and spirit were contagious and empowering. Often those types of people have so much pain and torture inside that the last thing they want is to contaminate or break the spirit of others.

“He would go out of his way to make sure you knew he truly cares. As real and transparent as our conversations would be, he was always the one projecting light on the shadows. In my last conversation with him, he was holding his two cute puppies and giving me the most selfless and motivational compliments in regards to Limp Bizkit and myself and thanking me for paving the path for bands like Linkin Park.“

Going down the rabbit hole that is the Internet, I found a video by Disturbed that features pics of Chester along with Chris Cornell. Disturbed lead singer David Draiman knew Chester well and wrote a song that was partly due to both Chester and Chris Cornell’s influence called “Hold on to Memories.” (Video for that is here.) It’s a beautiful song about loss, memories, and how at least in part the person or people you love who’ve passed are never completely gone, so long as you remember. It also discusses how the people you’ve loved/lost would want you to go on and live your best life.

I firmly believe that “Hold on to Memories” is the plain, flat truth. Our loved ones who have passed to the Other Side only wish for our good. (Of course, I can’t prove it. But that’s what faith is all about.) Yes, remember them, but not to the point of crippling yourself.

I mention that because it took me years to figure that out. Over a decade, really…and some days are still harder than others. All I’ve got to fight with, against despair and darkness and frustration and illness, are the bright memories I have with my husband Michael, along with others I’ve truly cared about like my late teacher and mentor Tim Bell, my Aunt Laurice and Uncle Carl, my grandmother, and my good friend Jeff Wilson, as these were the people who understood me the best.

I’m fortunate in that I have good friends, still, that care enough to ask every single day how I’m doing, how I’m recovering from the illness that’s preoccupied my life for the past few weeks (I’m much better, but still ailing/convalescent), and that my family continues to care about what happens to me also. I can’t take these things for granted, because every person’s life is different, and every single one of us finds a different path out of despair and hopelessness as best we may.

Anyway, these songs, from “One More Light” to “Hold on to Memories” and now the new “Lost” single as well, all encapsulate what I know to perfection. What we do in this life, the memories we make, the people we meet, the folks we help, maybe even the folks we hinder sometimes, matters. (It depends, that last, on whether hindering actually does any good, but that’s a side issue. Moving on…) How we build on the knowledge and care and concern and love we find is possibly the best reason for humanity’s existence, and doing what we can to help others — along with refusing to spread vitriol, as I’ve discussed many, many times here at my blog — is essential to our soul’s growth.

So, please. Do yourself a favor and listen to these songs. Contemplate them. Yes, miss Chester Bennington — he was one Hell of a singer and musician — but also appreciate the gifts he shared with the world, along with his bandmates (most especially co-lead singer Mike Shinoda). Appreciate that Disturbed, known far better for their hard rock up-tempo songs (which are also great), has written more than one excellent down-tempo song (this is the best, IMHO, but it’s not the only one). Know that many of us have more talents and abilities than we give ourselves credit for, and that on even our worst days, we’re worthy.

There’s no better tribute to Chester Bennington, Chris Cornell, or other great fallen musicians than that.

Damar Hamlin Released from Hospital, Sent Home to Recover

Folks, I am very pleased — and relieved — to know that Damar Hamlin, safety for the Buffalo Bills, was released from the hospital in Buffalo and was sent home to recuperate. This is not an outcome I would’ve expected last week when Hamlin suddenly, and scarily, fell backward. But it’s happened, and to me at least, it seems like a miracle.

Granted, there’s a saying I’ve heard that goes like this: “Miracles can happen through human hands, with God/dess flowing through.” That is, if we’re willing to help, if we’re willing to do whatever we can, then sometimes the Deity can use us. That certainly seems to be the case with Hamlin, as the trainers went right out and started CPR, then got out the AED (auto-defibrillator) and made sure his heart was in rhythm before the ambulance came to take him away.

One of the doctors at the previous hospital in Cincinnati said this is not only a very good outcome, but the rapidity of it seems remarkable. (I am giving my best paraphrase of something I saw on TV two or three days ago, so I hope this makes sense.) It’s an outcome that no one could’ve expected to have so soon…but it is warmly welcomed.

From what I heard tonight, it sounds like Hamlin will be working with the athletic trainers for the Bills along with a bunch of other specialists to help him heal. That he can do it from home, rather than from a rehab hospital, is possibly the biggest and best piece of news I’ve heard thus far.

See, recovering at home, when you can, is by far superior to having to stay in a nursing home (rehab place). You have more freedom, more autonomy, you can make more choices, and it’s far easier to relax in your own home, besides.

When I wrote the first blog about Hamlin last week, I had no idea what would happen. Like a lot of others, I prayed for a good outcome for him, as he’s only twenty-four. (I’d have prayed anyway, mind you, no matter what his age.) I hoped he’d wake up, know himself, know his family, know his team, and what he’d been doing before he collapsed, and he’s done all of those things. In addition, in the last couple of days (since this past Sunday, for sure), Hamlin has been Tweeting, and he’s also using his entrepreneurial spirit to sell t-shirts to raise money for the first responders who helped him.

So, in the span of about ten days, he went from sudden collapse due to a cardiac arrest to resuscitated due to the quick-acting and quick-thinking first responders to waking up and asking questions (including whether or not the Bills won the game) that showed he was “neurologically intact.” (This phrase was used several times by the Cincinnati doctors.) Then, after that, the ventilator was taken out, he started talking, then he started to Tweet again, was released from the hospital in Cincinnati to be flown to a hospital in Buffalo, and now he’s been released to go home so he can rehab on his own (with a lot of helpful people on his side, to be sure).

That’s amazing.

That’s the outcome everyone I knew was hoping for.

To my mind, it’s a medical miracle that Hamlin not only is alive but seems to be thriving (as much as anyone can, ten days out from a cardiac arrest).

Again, I am very, very happy that he’s back home and doing so well. May it continue to be so.

Damar Hamlin, 24, Still Alive After Collapsing on Monday Night Football (Update)

Folks, a few days ago I wrote a post about Buffalo Bills safety Damar Hamlin. He’s only twenty-four years old, a second-year pro football player in the NFL. He collapsed about three seconds after participating in a hard hit of Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver Tee Higgins, and most cardiologists consulted on TV, Twitter, or elsewhere believe what happened is called commotio cordis. This occurs when at precisely the wrong time, someone gets hit directly over the heart when the rhythm is about to reset. (I am not a cardiologist, obviously, nor a doctor. I hope I’m stating this correctly, and any doctors in the audience may feel free to correct me. Or EMTs, paramedics, etc., who all know far more than I.) This causes cardiac arrest as the heart goes into ventricular fibrillation (also called v-fib).

Fortunately for Hamlin, he was given immediate CPR on the field, plus an AED — a type of automatic defibrillator — was used. This allowed him to survive and get to the hospital and gives him a fighting chance to survive this ordeal.

Surviving a few days after such a horrible thing means the chances of waking up and knowing yourself and your family, friends, teammates, etc., is far higher.

Damar Hamlin’s collapse and resuscitation feels personal to me, and not just because I’m a football fan. It’s because of how my husband Michael collapsed years ago. Michael fell backward the same way and survived only ten hours after having his first heart attack. He was in a coma after his second. He had two more heart attacks before he passed away, still at a young age, still with absolutely no explanation that made any sense to me. They put on his death certificate “acute myocardial infarction suspected,” along with the beginning of arteriosclerosis. That last part should not have been enough to kill him. (There was so much damage, I’ll never know what caused Michael’s four heart attacks.)

Michael went into v-fib for certain after the second heart attack. He was out for eighteen solid minutes before he revived. After the third, he was out for at least another ten minutes, and when he came back to life again and I was allowed to see him, I was told by the doctors and nurses that they’d never seen anything like the fight Michael was putting up for his life. They said he obviously had everything to live for, and they hoped he’d pull through.

He didn’t.

Anyway, I pray that Hamlin will continue to improve and that he’ll be able to wake up soon. At that point they can figure out what to do next, as there are a number of outcomes — some really good, such as no memory damage due to oxygen deprivation — and some that aren’t. I want Hamlin to fully recover, even if he never plays another down of pro football.

Some of you may wonder how Hamlin’s GoFundMe for Xmas toys is doing. It’s up now to over $7M in donations. (No misprint.) Famous sportsmen like Tom Brady and Indianapolis Colts owner Jim Irsay have donated, along with tons of other football players including the Bills’ next opponent, the New England Patriots. (As a side note, Russell Wilson, former quarterback at Wisconsin and now a member of the Denver Broncos, and his wife Ciara donated, along with Wilson’s foundation.). But the majority of the donations have been from regular people. They’ve donated $5, $10, $13, $23, $33, etc. (Hamlin’s number is 3), because they want to do something, anything, that’s positive.

If Hamlin can wake up and know himself, eventually he can administer all these funds and help needy kids the way they deserve to be helped.

That is my hope. Hamlin is a good man, who set up that GoFundMe before he even was drafted and is someone who’s tried hard to help others by from what everyone has said since he was in his teens (if not sooner). He deserves to wake up and make a full recovery if any of us do.

I also want people to lay off Tee Higgins, who did nothing wrong whatsoever. What happened was a freak accident. This could’ve happened to Hamlin on any football play, if the heart was at the wrong point of its cycle. Football is a tough, violent, hard-hitting sport, but this particular risk usually is miniscule. It had never happened before in NFL history, and I pray it never will again.

So, at this hour (1 a.m. Central Standard Time), I continue to pray for Hamlin, his family, his team, the Bengals (the opposing team), Higgins because he’s being unfairly blamed, and the entirety of the NFL. I also pray for those who, like me, have watched loved ones die from sudden heart attacks and could do nothing about it.

For those people in my situation, I urge you to do your best to remember that so long as you are alive, at least a part of your loved one is also alive. It isn’t enough. I know it’s not. But it’s something, and it may at least give you a way to go on.

Monday Night Football Game Suspended After Bills Safety Damar Hamlin Collapses

Sometimes, we forget that life is far more important than sports.

Tonight, however, is not one of those nights.

Late Monday night, during the scheduled Monday Night Football game on ESPN, second-year pro Damar Hamlin, a safety playing for the Buffalo Bills, collapsed on the field. He’d just taken part in a hard hit, and he’d stood up…then collapsed. CPR was performed, and an AED — a type of auto-defibrillator — was used to restart his heart. He was unconscious and not breathing for what appeared to be over nine minutes. (I can only say “appear” because a wall of players, coaches, and staff surrounded Hamlin while the EMTs worked on him desperately to keep Hamlin alive.)

Hamlin is only 24. Previously healthy. No heart issues indicated.

So how did this happen? Why did it happen? How is it that a 24-year-old man is in a Cincinnati hospital tonight, with football fans and others around the country praying for him and hoping he makes a full recovery?

No one knows yet, or if they do, they’re not saying. There are theories, some given by MDs, about types of heart conditions that could’ve possibly occurred. I believe these theories have been postulated because so many people are very upset. Any of them could be right. Or none of them could be right.

We must wait for facts, here. And we must hope that Hamlin wakes up, as the last word given was that he was intubated and in critical condition. No one’s said if he’s regained consciousness, and no updates are going to be given until morning (probably at least 8 or 9 a.m. Eastern Standard Time).

All we can do, as decent human beings, is pray that Hamlin recovers.

You may be wondering what happened to the game. Well, it’s been postponed. No one has any idea when it will be played, or even if it’ll be played, as of this hour (12:30 a.m. Tuesday morning, Central Standard Time).

That’s as it should be. Lives are more important than football.

As a side note, a charity Hamlin started before he became a member of the NFL that gives toys to kids has raised almost 3 million dollars as of this hour. It had a stated donation goal of $2500. (Yes. Twenty-five hundred dollars.)

I believe this is happening because fans want to do something as they pray. Some have said in their comments that they want Hamlin to wake up so he can distribute all the toys his fund will buy, while most are just commenting that they continue to pray for him, his family, his team, and for the entire NFL.

I, unfortunately, am in between paychecks right now. I can’t contribute to Hamlin’s fund, though I will keep it in mind the next time I’m paid. But if you want to donate to help bring toys to needy kids in Hamlin’s name, that would be wonderful.

All I can do, as a football fan and as a human being, is to pray that Hamlin recovers. I am doing that partly because a 24-year-old man should have many years left, and partly as the widow of Michael B. Caffrey, who died in a similar way after fighting for ten hours to stay alive. Michael was no football player, but he did stand up, then collapse backward…an AED was not there when Michael needed it, but CPR was started right away by a neighbor EMT, and Michael had the best of care for the remaining ten hours of his life.

I don’t want the Hamlin family to have to see anything like what I saw.

I want him to live. To fully recover. To distribute all those toys. To enjoy his life, and know himself, and be happy with who he is, even if he never plays another down of football again.

Please. Pray for Damar Hamlin, his family, his teammates, and the entire NFL, most especially the players who risk their lives every single week to give enjoyment to millions.

Please.

Discussing Two Deaths: Postal Worker Aundre Cross, and Dancer Stephen “Twitch” Boss

Stephen “Twitch” Boss was a dancer, performer, husband, and father. He’d come to prominence partly due to So You Think You Can Dance, where he finished second. He met his wife Allison there as well. And over time, he met many people, including former First Lady Michelle Obama and former talk show host Ellen DeGeneres (he was her DJ, and eventually an executive producer also, for her show).

He also — though it didn’t seem like it due to his bubbly, effervescent nature — suffered from depression.

The public didn’t know that until he took his own life yesterday at age 40.

Aundre Cross was a 44-year-old postal worker in Milwaukee. He was killed by random violence; as he was delivering the mail around six p.m., someone shot him. The police do not yet have any suspects, and it’s been about a week since Cross’s death.

Now, you may be wondering why I’m pairing these two men in death. The main reason is, Cross, like Boss, was the same type of person by all accounts. Cross was someone everyone liked. He could go into a funeral home — as he often did, delivering the mail — and make people smile. He also didn’t shirk from the tough times his friends had; he was always a shoulder to cry on, or a person who could uplift you when you needed it.

Both of these men encouraged others to feel better about themselves and what they were doing. They understood setbacks, they understood how difficult life can be, and yet they went out of their way to be one of “the helpers” that Mr. Rogers used to talk about all the time on “Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood.”

When people like this go out of this world, it hurts us, whether we know it or not. That’s ’cause we all need to believe more in ourselves and our talents; we need to know that someone “gets” us, all the way through, and understands why we are trying so hard when it seems like nothing will ever break our way. These were men willing to talk, willing to help, willing to overcome, and willing to persevere. Their lives were both inspirational and educational, and while Cross wasn’t anywhere near as well-known as Boss, Cross shared light wherever he went — just as Boss did by all of the various tributes pouring in via social media and elsewhere.

If you are struggling with depression, please don’t wait. Speak to a friend. Speak to a crisis line. Speak to someone — a doctor, even. Do it for the memory of Twitch Boss, if you can’t do it for yourself.

And if you see someone shooting an innocent mail carrier and leaving him to die, please report this and stand ready to testify in whatever way you can.

People should not have to live in fear, whether it’s from themselves as in depression, or of others as in the traumatic and tragic case of the death of Mr. Cross while working and delivering the mail.

Actress Kirstie Alley dies at 71

It’s taken me a day since I heard about actress Kirstie Alley’s passing to figure out what I wanted to say.

Alley was almost an icon, in some senses. Whether it was weight loss, taking on tough challenges later in life (she was on Dancing with the Stars in 2011, when she was 59 going on 60), discussing difficult subjects (she once asked a reporter from my best recollection, “Are you a chubby chaser? Shouldn’t you be?”), or being outspoken in nearly every aspect of life, Alley was an American original in the best of senses.

I first saw Alley in STAR TREK II: The Wrath of Khan. She played Lieutenant Saavik, who was Spock’s mentee and almost his foster daughter. Saavik was half-Vulcan, half-Romulan, so she had more emotions than most Vulcans, yet she’d grown up more in the Vulcan way and did her best to follow logic rather than give in to her emotional side. The body language of Saavik was quite different than any other character Alley played later on; it was fluid in the lower body but restrained in the upper body. (She’d said this is how she viewed Leonard Nimoy’s performance as Spock, so she was emulating that the best she could as far as body language went.) This “mirroring” made it clear, without speaking, that she was deeply attached to her mentor, Spock.

Later, Alley was in Cheers, one of the longest running comedies ever on the “small screen” (aka television). She played the difficult and demanding Rebecca in such a way that you kind of liked her even though Rebecca threw out verbal jabs as easily as she served up a drink to the bar’s regulars. She won an Emmy for that performance.

In everything she did, Alley was memorable. Quotable.

Alley’s dance partner from Dancing, Maksim Chmerikovskiy, left an emotional tribute to Alley on Instagram. He said, in part, “You were one of the most unique people I have ever met and easily one of the brightest moments of my personal and professional life.” He wished her “the most peaceful rest,” and said he loved her and wished he’d spoken to her more often.

People who have huge hearts and spirits like Alley should be celebrated (which is exactly what Maksim C. did, above). They are unafraid to be themselves. They are unafraid of censure, because they know for the most part it’s meaningless and won’t matter in the end. They are more interested in self-improvement and being good to others than they are about anything else except their work, where they usually excel…and they are people who live full lives because they know that’s the only way to be true to themselves.

Alley’s life, especially after age fifty, seemed more like Auntie Mame (from the 1958 movie) than anything else. She was eccentric, outspoken, interesting, funny, yet had her vulnerable side as well. She was exactly the type of woman that I, in my midlife, hope to become someday.

May her memory always be a blessing.