Posts Tagged ‘optimism’
In Tough Times, Try to Have Fun (Say the Brewers and Musician Chuck Mangione)
There’s a lot wrong with the world right now, especially in the United States. It can be tough to remember that there is still good in the world, along with good people who will do their best to make the world the best place it can be.
I mention this because of two things. One, jazz flugelhornist Chuck Mangione passed away at age 84 earlier this week. His signature song was called “Feels So Good,” and it came out in 1978. (I know some of you were not born yet.) 1978 was a time of distress for many. There was “stagflation” going on — both inflation and stagnancy, which is kind of the worst of both worlds when it comes to economics. Many people were struggling, as the work they had didn’t pay enough to live, or maybe they’d just lost their job.
So, why did Mangione come up with “Feels So Good” at that particular time?
No one knows the answer to that but him (and he can’t tell us anymore). The best I ever garnered from various interviews and such was that he felt life was a gift. He wanted to showcase something fun, something upbeat, and something memorable.
He certainly did that, and in spades.
I recently found out that Mangione was not only a trained jazz musician (that was obvious), but had worked with Art Blakely’s Jazz Messengers group before breaking out with “Feels So Good” and leading his own group. The Jazz Messengers are a hard-swinging group playing traditional jazz (mostly bebop, with some late 1950s into the early 1960s expressionism if it made sense to them). This was quite a surprise to me, as you’d never think anyone who’d worked with them (as Mangione did) would’ve come up with “Feels So Good.”
Anyway, I have a second reason that reminded me it’s important to have fun, and here it is: The Milwaukee Brewers 25th Anniversary of their home field (now called American Family Field; originally called Miller Park) included one of the most fun events I could possibly conceive of as a Brewers fan, that being an Alumni Home Run Derby.
The Brewers had many wonderful players in the last twenty-five years, and the Derby brought back ten of them. Eric Thames hit massive homers and was — and still is — built like a bodybuilder. Nyjer Morgan was a speedster, but did credibly in the Derby, hitting a couple of homers. Corey Hart, one of my favorite all-time Brewers, hit five homers in the limited time given to each player, and actually made the two-person finals. Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder, Brewers icons, of course were there, and so was Carlos Gomez with his elegant swing and happy-go-lucky attitude. Bill Hall, one of the best all-around infielders the Brewers have ever had, did credibly also. Casey McGehee was an entrant, but wasn’t able to hit a homer (that was OK with the fans, I read; they were just glad he tried). Brewers pitcher Yovani Gallardo, who won a Silver Slugger award for the best-hitting pitcher when pitchers still hit, looked good and hit well. And, finally, Keon Broxton, a very speedy outfielder and mostly a defensive specialist when he was with the Brewers for a few years, hit five homers to match Hart and gain the final round.
Now, I have to mention something about both Broxton and Hart. Broxton is only thirty-five and never had a major injury to his feet, legs, or knees as far as I’m aware. Hart is forty-three and suffered major injuries to his knees which required surgery. Broxton looks like he could still play, similar to Ryan Braun, whereas Hart looks more like what he is now: a proud father and a decidedly retired player. (Note that I do not mean “out of shape” here. Every Brewers alumni player who went up to bat showed they’re still in exceptionally good shape. Broxton was notable because he almost looked like a triathlete, if that makes any sense, and none of the rest of them did.)
But Hart’s swing is still the same, a long, looping, easy swing, and that’s why despite a torn muscle, he not only attended the Derby but was its runner-up.
Mind you, both Hart and Broxton were not the players thought of to be in the playoffs. Most thought it would be Ryan Braun, Prince Fielder, and/or Carlos Gomez (as I don’t think most fans realized it was only going to be a two-person final; I know I didn’t). Hart was probably picked more often than Broxton, though, because Hart was known to be a power-hitter (Hart, like Broxton, was also excellent defensively and quite speedy before knee injuries robbed him of his speed and flexibility).
But it was Broxton’s day. He won the Derby, he took a celebratory trot around the basepaths, and when he got to home plate, all the Brewers alumni who’d participated fell down (as they did once for Prince Fielder after a booming homerun).
See, the Derby was just plain fun. Lots of good things came out of it, and fans went away smiling even though the game beforehand wasn’t the best (as the Brewers lost to the Miami Marlins, 5-1).
The reason I talked of both things — Mangione’s passing, along with his huge hit “Feels So Good,” along with the Brewers Alumni Home Run Derby — is because they both promoted happiness and well-being. The song is a bit playful (if you ever listen to the whole thing; it’s often sampled now in commercials, which to me waters down its impact), while the Derby sparkled with former Brewers still showcasing their God-given abilities.
Of the alumni, Hart and Fielder both suffered injuries that ended their careers far earlier than they would’ve liked, but on this day it did not matter…they gave joy to the fans, who gave joy to them, and it was almost a picture-perfect version of a positive feedback loop.
At any rate, the fact remains that we have to look for reasons for hope sometimes. We need that. We need to know that it’s not only OK to have fun, it’s necessary.
Chuck Mangione knew that. The Brewers alumni knew that (and still know that), too.
Somehow, I need to remember that in my own life.
I will work on it, as my life continues its major upheaval (as I will be moving soon, destination still unknown).
Written by Barb Caffrey
July 26, 2025 at 12:05 am
Posted in baseball, Casey McGehee, Corey Hart, Heartwarming stories, Inspirational stuff, Milwaukee Brewers baseball club, Music, Prescient observations, Prince Fielder, Ryan Braun, Yovani Gallardo
Tagged with "Feels So Good", baseball, Bill Hall, Carlos Gomez, Chuck Mangione, eric thames, fun things, hope, jazz, keon broxton, life, Milwaukee Brewers, Milwaukee Brewers alumni, MLB, Nyjer Morgan, optimism, sports, writing
Looking for Optimism in 2024
Folks, 2023 was a difficult, frustrating, and disempowering year for me. A whole lot I wanted to get done didn’t happen. A whole lot that I never wanted to occur did.
So, how can I look for optimism in 2024?
It seems like every time I turn on the news, something else awful has happened. There’s a tornado in Alabama. There’s a documentary about a young woman, Gypsy Rose Blanchard (now happily married, married name Anderson), who was mistreated horribly by her mother and who served several years in prison for conspiring to kill her mother. (If you saw what her mother did to Gypsy Rose Blanchard, you might be like me and say, “Small loss.” Especially after Ms. Blanchard tried hard to get away from her mother, and how no one understood the horrific stuff her mother had put her through.) Blanchard’s story sent ice straight down my spine, as her late and (to my mind) unlamented mother kept her looking ill and much frailer than she ever should’ve been due to Blanchard’s mother’s significant mental illness. (The diagnosis for Blanchard’s mother, who I’m not naming as I feel she was among the world’s worst villains of the last thirty years, was Munchausen’s Syndrome by proxy, meaning Blanchard’s mother put Gypsy Rose through all sorts of crap by making her appear sick — as a cancer patient, as needing various surgeries Gypsy Rose never required, etc.)
Then, of course, there are the usual problems. Snow. Ice. Wind. Man against nature.
So, it’s a dark and rather depressing opening to 2024 for me. It’s cold, there’s not a lot of light at the end of the tunnel, and I’m frustrated overall because I’ve tried very hard for the last nineteen years-plus since my late husband Michael died (yes, I know to the hour, but I won’t be that anal-retentive today) to live the best life I can. Maybe I’ve done that, but my creativity has not been where I wish it to be; I didn’t achieve my goals in 2023 of getting some new stories out under my own name due to my father’s passing in October (partly, anyway; I was already behind that expectation due to the earlier cellulitis of the face I suffered in February and March before he died); work lagged, and I was having to play catch-up even before I caught Covid-19 in early December.
When looked at all as a piece, it seems much worse than what it was when I lived through it. And it’s of course not a patch on what Gypsy Rose Blanchard lived through for years until her mother was killed by Gypsy Rose’s then-boyfriend. (Don’t judge that young woman until you’ve seen what her mother put her through.) But pain is pain, and Michael always told me that it’s invalidating to try to compare your pain to others’ pain.
I think that’s good advice.
In my case, stuff builds up inside. I have no way to express it safely, or at least it seems like there isn’t one. This feeds depression, this feeds illness, this feeds lack of creativity and this also feeds despair, hopelessness, and as my friend Karl Ernst put it in his book Rocking Change, stuckness.
That doesn’t mean I’d not have been ill with Covid-19 if my problems magically went away. (Plus, life seems to be all about how to navigate problems. We always have some, somewhere.) That doesn’t mean everything would be lightness, creativity, brightness, and happiness, either.
What it does mean is that the real issues I’ve got: grief, again, this time due to the loss of my father; iffy health (that I continue to work on to get at least slightly better); loneliness; frustration; anger; hopelessness; well, they all get stuffed together in a maelstrom of despair.
That said, I think there are some reasons for optimism here.
First, I am aware of these problems. They aren’t just sitting there, unremarked and misunderstood.
Second, I have managed to write over 36K words in the last year into a new story I can’t tell you much about yet (it’s in a friend of mine’s universe and will eventually go out co-branded with his name), which is the highest word count I’ve managed in the last three years. This means the prospective novel is about one-third completed. (Yay!)
Third, I have good friends I trust, along with family, that have known me for many years. That has to help.
Fourth, while 2024 is already shaping up to be a year of change for me in many senses, I believe there is room for me to take a new role upon the stage somehow. (As life is but a stage, and we are merely players according to both Shakespeare and the rock group Rush, this needed to be said.)
Or as my father used to put it, “There’s always another season.” He was talking about sports, but I think that’s applicable to life as well.
So, what I’m going to do is this. Write. Edit. Compose music. Talk to other people as best I can. Continue on my path, as I know exactly what it is, and do whatever I can and whatever it takes to make my life happier, more stable, and far more satisfying.
See, I can’t control the future. I can’t control what other people think about me. I can’t control all the vicissitudes of life.
But I can control how I react to it.
That’s my overarching reason for optimism in 2024. (What’s yours? Tell me in the comments!)
Written by Barb Caffrey
January 9, 2024 at 8:54 pm
Posted in Framing Narrative, heartbreaking stories, in general, Michael B. Caffrey, Persistence, Prescient observations, Writing
Tagged with 2024, despair, Gypsy Rose Anderson, Gypsy Rose Blanchard, hopelessness, Karl Ernst, life, Life in general, News, optimism, pessimism, Rocking Change: Changing the World Through Changing Ourselves, stuckness, true-crime
One Step at a Time
Folks, I figured this week’s post should be about something we all need.
Is it optimism? Well, optimism never hurts, but while I believe optimism is helpful in the main, it’s not going to get you to sit down and write or create (not by itself, anyway).
Is it faith in yourself and your ideas? Well, again, this does not hurt and can only help.
But when you have much faith in yourself, and you’re not sure your ideas will ever matter, what do you do then?
What I try to do is to take a step back, see the big picture, and realize that while I can’t control the market (or the court of public opinion, either, truth be told), I can control what I do.
I know that for myself, creating something new is absolutely essential. Whether it’s in music or words (no matter what type of words, either, as sometimes a poem can say more in two short pages than a novel can in hundreds), cooking something different, or just being willing to experiment a bit to learn a new skill (how I learned latch-hooking, years ago, and needlepoint, much less how to make an oboe reed and/or finish off a clarinet or saxophone reed) can help me keep going.
Life, you see, is as much about learning as it is about anything else. That includes learning new things about yourself, your talents, and the uses for same.
So, when I lack optimism, I tell myself that I’ve done creative work before and will do it again.
When I worry that I don’t have enough faith in my ideas, I put that to the side and keep going anyway.
Persist, persist, persist. That’s my motto.
It should be yours, too.
Written by Barb Caffrey
August 9, 2023 at 9:37 am
Posted in Persistence, Writing
Tagged with creative work, creativity, faith in the future, faith in yourself, optimism