Man Cave, Oklahoma culture

Knocking on the Locked Door of Brett Favre’s Mind

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by Mark “The Howard” Hinderliter

*Disclaimer: All facts reported in this article may only be facts to me and could have nothing at all to do with actual history.

Malleus of Thor

First off, let me just put it out there – I’m a Vikings fan. How that happens to an Oklahoma boy I have no idea….I blame Sheb Woolley but that’s a story for another day.  I’ve carried the Malleus of Thor since the days of The Purple People Eaters, Fran the Man, the Spin Doctor, Bud, Carl, Alan, Jim, Krause and the finest (and maybe the last) straight-on place kicker, Fred Cox — reportedly also the holder of the patent for the Nerf Football.  Cool!

I’ve endured four Super Bowl losses.  Not in four consecutive years mind you (ouch…sorry Bills Fans), but four all the same.  And they’ve been so close since those tough, early NFL Super losses.  Who can forget Randall Cunningham and the highest scoring offense in history? Does that record still hold??  They lost in the NFC Title Game.

And then there was last year.  It was our year!

The man Vikings defenses loved to torment…who had some of his worst games in the Metrodome while wearing green, was pulling the trigger for the Vikes, handing the ball to AD, tossing the lob to Shiancoe.  He made the incredible Favre throws.  And, some incredible Favre Oh No’s.

Once again…so close.  But they couldn’t take care of the ball against the Saints.  And in the process a 40 year old ankle was – well – it had to hurt!  No, I’m not a disinterested, non-partisan party.  Which makes those of us outside the mind of Brett wonder what is going on inside the mind of Brett Favre?

While Packers fans and fans of the other thirty NFL teams snicker at the “Continuing Drama of Brett,” Ragnar and the Purple Norsemen are ready to fall on their axes.  Are we to be left once again in the less than capable hands of Tarvaris Jackson?  Sage Rosenfels?  We may as well go with rookie Joe Webb and take whatever blows the hammer of the gods inflict upon us!

Reportedly, BF has told some teammates he will not return for his 20th NFL season.  But haven’t we been down this road before?  Nineteen seasons played and what, twelve training camps?  Isn’t this is a dodge we’ve seen before…like last year?

But what if…?  What if the ankle really hasn’t healed?  Could Brett be sincere in claiming he will not return?  SI contributor Peter King thinks Favre may hold out until after the Vikes by-week during “week five.”  Others suspect he’ll be in the Land O’Lakes as soon as training camp is over.

You know the commercials where Brett just can’t decide what tv to buy?  They’re not funny anymore.  Not if you wear purple.

Three things about Favre; two easy to verify and one that is hearsay:

  1. Brett is a fierce competitor,
  2. Brett has trouble making up his mind, and
  3. (weird) Brett is non-confrontational (huh?).

Could Brett be afraid to disappoint?  Say it ain’t so!  This is football!  Football is all about confrontation in the most violent ways men can figure while on two feet and without weapons.  So suck it up Nancy!  Get on the field, go for the ring.  And let us know what’s going on.

Football is no place for drama; it’s a place for action!

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Travel

Day 34: The Mean Girls Guide to Oxford Tourist Identification (Pt. 1)

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Tina Fey once said, “If you want to make an audience laugh, you dress a man up like an old lady and push her down the stairs. If you want to make comedy writers laugh, you push an actual old lady down the stairs. ”  She attributes that quote to Catherine the Great.

She also wrote, “In Washington, officials from the National Rifle Association met with a group of high school students. There were no survivors.”

Fey penned quite a bit about her experience as an adolescent girl in junior high and high school.  This subject matter helped inspire one of her greatest big screen successes entitled “Mean Girls.”

A classic scene from the movie basically demonstrates the “great humor rule” that if you just say out loud what everybody already thinks, all of the sudden it becomes funny.  I’m talking about the “Cafeteria Seating Chart” scene.  In it, two students explain to a new girl from Africa why she doesn’t want to sit in certain places in the cafeteria.  They go to great lengths and detail about the sub cultures of their high school population.

I was thinking about this seating chart as I was walking down High Street on Day 34.  I realized that in my head I had started labeling people I saw, based upon my four week experiences of covering the same territory on a daily basis.  I also realized that when I started mentioning these categories to my friends in the program, they then became “reality.”  Not all are Tina-Fey-Funny, but most all ring very true.

In lieu of an indiscernable map I might scribble out, I’ve posted and labeled my “Mean Girls Guide to Oxford Tourist (and locals) Identification.”  That way, if you ever come here, you don’t have to do this yourself.  You’ll thank me later.  So…you’re welcome.

Oxford local business population...

1.  The first group is the local business population.  The men wear suits, the women generally wear suits and low-heeled shoes.  They walk down the sidewalk as if nothing really bothers them and are a minority population among the tourists and students.  These sub group is harmless; you can walk past without fear.

Walking designer label ads

2.  The second group is the “Walking Designer Label Ads.” Great numbers of the young male students wear Tommy Hilfigar, Abercrombie & Fitch, etc. on a daily basis.  The female students generally show their designers by the pattern or label on their handbags, but sometimes their shirts or jeans as well.  The only danger with this group is tripping over a cobblestone if you focus too much on trying to read a designer logo unfamiliar to your brain.  Viva la Labels!

3.  Next is a power group.  These are the middle aged tourist couples. Judging from the bags they carry around after all the shopping they do, Oxford loves these people.  I’d like to know whether they, or the students, contribute the most to the economy.  I have noticed American gender-specific behaviors such as the males standing with their backs against a wall in the shop, while the female peruses store after store.  If you know me, you know it pains me to write that observation, but it’s true.

Middle aged tourist couples

The picture takers

4.  Ahh…the picture takers. Things get really comical during the day when thousands of people are trying to dodge, duck or dive or dip (yes, those are the four D’s of dodge ball) out of the way of thousands more picture takers.  This task is impossible, of course, so I would venture to say that photos people take home from Oxford include people jumping out of their way, and many, many shots include OTHER picture takers.

5.  Consider now, the young lovers. Honestly, it’s pretty hard NOT to consider them, as they are generally making out quite energetically in the alcoves, in the alley ways, next to their college entrances or right in the middle of the sidewalk.  Kisses are more public here, I suppose…lots of them.  The older people just smile, nod and walk on by.  There’s probably a day dream with an Italian accent in the heads of the passers by…”Ah, l’amore, l’amore….”  Notice the people grinning in the photo?  That’s because the couple had just stopped practicing their kissing, right in front of the group.

Young lovers
The fashionistas

6.  The fashionistas – towering along on 5 inch heels, checking their hair, adjusting their designer shades or posing by the street signs.  People in Europe generally dress a step or so up from “us Okies,” but the fashionistas know it.  And, they want YOU to know it too!

7.  The next type are “student tourist groups.” Pictured here are a group of female students who can’t speak English.  They are practicing giving a passer-by their “I’m lost, can you help me?” card.  The yellow backpacks are Cambridge student groups, and the other is a common scene as well…the sponsor is barking orders, “Meet back here in 2 hours!  Two hours, okay? Got that?”

"Can you help me?" - Student tourist groups...

8.  After the student groups come the “Local Blokes.” Blokes is a term not necessarily used for class or category, but I’m using it because when there is a group hanging out together after work, that word is one of the few that accurately describes the rowdy, rambunctious and infectious laughter.  The story telling really does get quite entertaining.  Pictured here are just a couple examples of the “Local Blokes,” or blue-collar locals I see every day.  The first towers over the heads of his peers and rides his bike to work.  The second is my height, talks very quietly (except during the after work fun) and looks tired all the time.

Tall, motorcyle-dude local bloke
Quiet, weathered local bloke

I’m going to wrap this entry here, because I am now halfway finished with my Mean Girl report on Oxford inhabitant typeologies.  Yes, there are seven more!  Day 35 will include the cyclists, the “Man Bag” dudes, the “Female Student Scarf Crew” and more.  Now can you see why I didn’t want to draw you a diagram??

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Faith, Poetry, Travel

Day 33: God Created my DNA and He Reminded Me of the Code in St. Mary’s Cathedral

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As a young girl, my parents prepared my brother and I to seek an expansion of perspective beyond that which our own community had to offer.  Comprised within this family plan were experiences of art, travel and educational enrichment.  The mode of delivery usually meant we were loaded into the farm truck and driven to some event in Oklahoma City…despite any resistance on our part.

These “field trips” might have included a classical concert or perhaps a lecture from an archeologist who had discovered pitch clad shards of gopher wood on a limited time-window excursion in Turkey.  Sometimes, the evenings were capped off with an ice cream cone at Kaiser’s in the heart of downtown.  At the time, I’m sure the ice cream was my favorite part.  I do recall, however, feeling the hair on my arms lift as I touched the Lucite bound tiny pieces of what I thought might be Noah’s Ark.

My K-12 formal educational journey was also important in how I began to view the world.  I learned of fairness and the magic of discovery from the effective teachers, and of injustice and constriction from those less able.  The good must have outweighed the challenging, however, because every cell in my body seeks new understandings to this day.  It’s in my DNA, and God reminded me of this by giving me a gift on Day 33 that I’ll never forget.

This past Sunday I attended The University Church of St. Mary the Virgin. Expectations had already been set on my part simply knowing that C.S. Lewis had preached his “Weight of Glory” sermon in that very hall.  John Wesley spoke there on many occasions, and before the College system sprang up in Oxford, the church served as the location for the educational exercises such as group lectures or exams.  This was at a time in the 13th century when scholars actually lived with the professors to receive their education.  This church is central to how the entire educational context was set throughout Oxfordshire.

Eucharist began at 10:30 and I came in the door at 10:32.  I was handed a Hymn book and a guide to the service, was shown an available seat and sent on my way.  Being an evangelical, I’ve learned to watch the other attendees and the pastor carefully when participating in a service such as that offered at St. Mary’s.  There is standing, sitting, standing…and sitting.  And standing.  There is also a participatory portion that the audience reads by following the service guide.  All these machinations are unfamiliar to me, but easy to follow.  I’m glad, because it left much of my mental energy available to absorb everything else. Comments continued after the photograph…

I’ll not provide the entire sermon, nor all my thoughts during the service.  Indeed, some were too personal, too humbling, too set on the holiness of our Lord.  However I will share a bit of that for which I am grateful:

1.  I’m grateful for the chance to have heard the message delivered by the Reverend Canon Brian Mountford, Vicar of the University Church.  From the moment he began to speak, my rapt attention zeroed in on his outline and it was one of the best sermons I’ve heard in my life.  Scripture, poetry, philosophy, education, human suffering and regard – all these concepts and perhaps more were laid before those attending and asked to be considered on behalf of our Creator.

2.  I’m grateful for a greeting time wherein the only task was to reach out to those around us and utter this simple phrase, “Peace to you,” or respond, “And to you as well.”  This made me cry – the simplistic form of a gentle greeting and a gentle return. Wonderful.

3.  I’m grateful for a communion service where each person was reminded with one phrase, “The body of Christ,” that which they were taking as they were handed a piece of bread.  And I’m grateful to have been given the chance to drink from a community cup real wine, the edge of which was wiped with a cloth and given the person next in line.  I’ve never shared a cup with others, and it is a compelling experience.

4.  I’m grateful to have had the chance to sing all verses of the selected Hymns, generally written in Old English verse, accompanied by an organ whose song filled the highest corners of the cathedral.  I know the notes lifted up our voices and sent them to the Heavens.

5.  And, I’m grateful for the reminding affirmations for all who participated, each time we read along during the service. An example: “We are the body of Christ.  In the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body.  Let us then pursue all that makes for peace and builds up our common life.”  Another: “Great is the Mystery of Faith – Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.  Blessing and honor and glory and power be yours for ever and ever. Amen.”

With every affirmation stated by the audience, my faith was affirmed and deemed a righteous pursuit.

I don’t know if I’ll get to attend a service at St. Mary’s again.  However, for me, it was as if my spirituality had attended an inspirational conference – – a conferring or communion with God.  A renewal was given to me and for that I am grateful as well.

I’ll leave you with a poem that was read during the sermon.  The discussion was about how one person might say a leaf is green due to the chlorophyll, another because the evolutionary sea life was purple – so green was refracted, and another – a poet – might say “because it means renewal.”

Peace to you.

~~~~~~~

The Trees

The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too.
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

Philip Larkin

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Oklahoma culture, Travel

Day 32: “Well Done!” Day vs. “Congratulations!” (aka Oxford v OSU)

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I was thinking this morning about translation.  If I have to spend this much energy translating American English to Britain English, what must international students be doing?  I say this because yesterday was the “big day” for many Oxford students; the day of graduation exercises.  For the most part, emotions expressed by the graduates and their families were the same as I witness at OSU every Spring and fall.  The words and the traditions with which they express those emotions, however, are slightly different.

For example, the academic regalia throughout all the colleges here is stepped up considerably.  There are strict regulations about what you wear underneath your gown, as well as what you wear on top of your regular  clothes (which are regulated by the previous regulations, on a regular basis).  This girl has done a nice job at following the required standards – dark skirt, white blouse, and her BA robe trimmed in white rabbit fur.

I won’t make this entire essay a comparative piece, but I will say that the variety of what our students at Oklahoma State University (OSU) wear under their robes covers a broader range of selections.  I know this because our students usually put their robe on right BEFORE graduation, and take it off right AFTER.  I’ve seen graduates traipsing around Oxford in theirs, now, for the last three days.

Family of the graduates in Oxford have to work a bit harder as well.  Because of the limited space for the grand halls used for commencement exercises, they have to order tickets for each person.  Oxford will “do its best to accommodate as many as possible on a first come, first served basis.”

Okay, this IS a comparative piece.  At OSU, our general attitude is, “Bring everyone!  It’s Gallagher-Iba Arena, for Pete’s sake! We hold several ceremonies just so everyone can attend..the more, the merrier!” (Was that too many exclamation points?!)

Many of the ceremonies at Oxford are conducted in Latin.  At OSU, we speak Cowboy.

In Oxford, the graduate celebrations and receptions include a full table of chilled champagne.  OSU is an alcohol-free campus.

And, in Oklahoma we usually greet a graduate with a hearty, “Congratulations!”  Here, the standard greeting is, “Well done!”

At OSU, the atmosphere inside Gallagher-Iba tends to be celebratory, and sometimes quite loud (drums and bagpipes, air horns, large group yells as a family hears their student’s name).  At Oxford, most of the ceremony is really very quiet.  Here is a video of the matriculation (entering the university for the first semester) ceremony.  You can see how quiet the proceedings are.

Matriculation at Oxford – running time, 1 minute, 29 seconds

And here is a 30 second video of part of the Latin graduation ceremony, illustrating the bowing in respect to the faculty tradition…(fondly referenced among the students as the “Sheldonian Wave,” – Sheldonian Hall being the place where the ceremony is held).

The Sheldonian Wave

I don’t have to tell any of my Okie friends how something like the Sheldonian Wave might be viewed by the student body at OSU.  I think you know.

We may simply not have the patience for this kind of pomp and circumstance in the U.S.  Certainly not in Oklahoma.  I recently served as a “name reader” during our commencement ceremony and the key concept was, “Keep them moving along.  Read loudly, articulate each syllable, and as quickly as is comfortable for you.”  One of my friends said in jest after the ceremony that “it’s sort of like listening to six game show hosts read a thousand names, where everybody won.”

The faster paced process in Oklahoma, however, has it’s advantages.  For example, here is an excerpt from Oxford’s policy on sending students their diplomas:

“Your award certificate will be sent to your home address (as recorded on the university’s student information system) within 4 months of the date that the award was conferred (ie the examination committee date).”

And…here is OSU’s:

“Diplomas are available to students approximately 6 weeks after their graduation date.”

Yeah, buddy!  I’ve also learned that students here received their grades for a regular examination approximately six weeks after they take it, due to the exams being sent through three reviewers.  The professors here exasperate over how wonderful it would be to teach in the U.S….for very reasons such as this.

So what is the same?  The sense of family.  The sense of accomplishment.  The look of pride on a parent’s face and the beaming jubilation that a goal was achieved on the part of the student.

Regardless of American English OR British English…or, I would venture to write, any language found, the emotions associated with graduation are by and large exactly the same around the world.

So…if you’ve ever experienced graduation as a student or a family member, and are asked some day if you speak another language, just tell ’em: “Yeah.  I speak Graduation.”  It will be true.

Above, a picture of a proud “mum” walking by her graduate son in case you have any doubt left.  You can’t tell it by looking, but she’s pointing out to the family of another graduate that, “…this was where my son lived for four years.  We’re here to celebrate his graduation!”  By the look on the son’s face, I think he’s just fine with that little bit ‘o mama pride.

I walked by them to my dorm room, ducked under a few cameras taking pictures, looked at the proud mama and whispered, “Well done!”

She beamed.

One more thing…You know OSU wins, right?  If I’m writing, OSU ALWAYS wins.  I wouldn’t trade the OSU Alma Mater, singing “Oklahoma!” and cheering like crazy for our students for anything in the WORLD.  The WHOLE world.

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Travel

Day 31: “Elderly People,” Elephant Man Trees, Foraging in England and The Maze

A friend in the program mentioned she would be going to Blenheim Palace on Saturday and asked if I wanted to go.  At that point, I thought my day trips were over due to the need for intense study time.  However, when I learned the palace was in Woodstock, just 20 minutes outside of Oxford, I was in!

I got to ride in my first double-decker bus.  So, of course Nicole and I get on the top level and in the front!  Here’s our view: (this is BEFORE the windshield got covered with 4 million bugs in 20 minutes…who knew this beautiful view would be traded for a liberal dose of bug gut spackling?)

As soon as we began reaching the outskirts of the city we saw two funny signs.  I’m not sure this first one would pass the “political correctness” muster in the U.S.  Do you?

I just really didn’t know what to think about it.  I can’t imagine any of the “elderly people” in my family coming to the conclusion that: a) Yes, we definitely need a sign to warn traffic we are running around outside; or, b) and PLEASE be sure to characterize us stooped over with canes.  That’s essential.

The second sign caught my eye because it’s election season back in the states.  I was thinking, is this like a straw poll?  Do they practice first, then do the real election later?  What the heck? Here’s the sign…

It turns out that in spite of the word “Mock,” this is an actual election for their real mayor.  I looked up the event when I got home and here’s what happens:

This ceremony is known to date back to 1786. A mayor and corporation for Old Woodstock are elected with ‘mock formality’ and then ceremoniously pitched into the River Glyme…

So, there you go.  In case you’ve ever wanted to throw your local politician into the river, you can actually get your chance if you live here.

Blenheim Palace is going on my list of “must see locations” for anyone who asks for advice about the area.  If you are a history buff, a Winston Churchill fan, a landscape or outdoors person…then this place is for you.  They don’t allow photographs inside the house, but the grounds will keep you and your camera busy for a long time.  By the way, there is a jousting competition this upcoming Saturday…cool!  Here is a picture of me in the Palace Chapel, pretending to give a sermon to all the family and servants (there was generally an average of four or five family members and between 50 and 95 servants).

Thou shalt not wear thy corsets too tight for fear of fainting!

Once we finished the historical “reality” tour, then were guided around the first floor by an older gentleman who must have pledged his loyalty to the family forever and ever by the way he praised their name.  We then took a little train out to the play area and “The Maze.”

The Maze was incredible.  Shaped out of ewes, it was comprised of a highly complex design with dead ends, curly q’s and two lookout decks (so you could look down to see where you were going and where you had been).  It took us about 25 minutes to get through the whole thing.

Here’s our emotional journey: Oh, this is neat.  Wow, how interesting.  Are we lost?  Which way did we come from? You lead, I’m lost. Geez, how long does this thing take…hey, there’s a lookout! Okay, that was cool…NOW I’m sure I know where we’re going.  I’m feeling lost again.  This is getting long.  Okay – this is really taking a lot longer than I thought – oh, hey! There’s another lookout tower.  Um, what time is it? Do you think they’ll close the gate if we don’t get out of here?  AHHH!!!! We’re free!

Here are a few shots of The Maze…

I’m not even going to talk about what happened after we left the maze.  In a nutshell, we went out of the back of the property rather than the front, and we walked around the entire estate.  45 minutes later, we made it back to the front just in time for the next bus.  It was a modern day miracle.

I will talk about the fact that on our walk we saw thousands of blackberry bushes and a cherry tree or two.  Both were loaded with fruit and I ate some.  Nicole kind of freaked, not knowing whether they were poison, had weed spray on them, etc.  I told her that blackberries were not poison, and that there were tons of weeds around the bushes, so I was taking a chance.  Then I told her that we should probably watch out for large bears who would also want the berries.  This is how I thanked my traveling partner – scaring her to death while we looked for the front of the property.

Right after the “death by poison berries” scare, we were met with an actual creepy image.  There in front of us was “Elephant Man Tree,” and his mouth was open in a permanent horrific moan as if to say, “Why? Why did this happen to me?!”  I have no idea if this is a tree disease, if this is a particular strain of tree that is supposed to look like this (I doubt it), or if there is another explanation.  These trees had extra funky trunkies.  I’ll sign off this post by leaving you with the images of the tormented trees.  Don’t scroll down if you get creeped out by trees that look like people screaming (well, one looks like an elephant or octopus face).

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