“Remember, You are Just a Man!”

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By on February 6, 2011

There’s this part of the Catholic Mass called the “homily.” It’s like the “sermon” of other denominations, albeit usually a lot shorter. For whatever reason, I tend to 1242681_27218650_roman_statue_stock_xchng_royalty_free_300do my most creative thinking during homilies. That’s probably true of most people. According the Catholic Encyclopedia, the homily, in brief, intends to mix the specific practicum of everyday experience with the generic spiritual/philosophical treatise offered by the Gospel. It’s said to be the oldest form of preaching. These inspirational words must therefore prod one into reflexive thought; hence, my tendency to brew ideas as the priest speaks in the most general of terms.

Today was different. Not only was it Scout Sunday and I was dressed in uniform to accompany a small covey of Boy Scouts as they brought up the gifts, but today the priest didn’t communicate merely in generalities. Today he named specific names. Today, he pointed to me and proclaimed Continue Reading ““Remember, You are Just a Man!””

Posted in Boy Scouts, Gray Matter Musings, Memoir of a Real Life Tagged , , ,

The Greatest Game Ever… So Far!

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By on February 1, 2011

The game has come to define my life. You won’t find my name in any record books or even on many rosters, but the game flows through my very blood. Indeed, the Peter_Sports_Cover_300fact I don’t appear within any organized log tells you most of the story. But this, this is a different story.

Gary Trudeau once said we have become a nation of play-by-play announcers. We see life as a narrated live action event. It therefore doesn’t help things that, among the many paths I’ve taken, includes that of actually serving as a play-by-play announcer. But, rather than dwelling on a “voice of God” describing the action, what stands out in my memory remains the visions of modest, yet self-satisfying, glory. Picture not the booming baritone of NFL Films, but the dramatic slow-motion dénouement of a Hollywood picture.

It’s the littlest things I remember: The enormous body floating silently above me that Continue Reading “The Greatest Game Ever… So Far!”

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Terror at the School Bus Stop – A True-Life Story (Part III)

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By on January 27, 2011

[This Commentary originally appeared in the January 27, 1990 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

(The following is loosely based on a real life adventure as told by an eight year old.)

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259The Verdict: Accused, I stood before the Older Guys face hung low. “Kid,” Jimmy rendered in a solemn but professional tone, “We’re gonna hafta beat you up.” A silent hush fell upon all the kids at the School Bus Stop that cool winter morning. The sentence did not surprise me. With sad, martyred eyes, I looked up to face Jimmy and Danny.

As Older Guys, none came much stronger than Jimmy and Danny. For fourth-graders, Continue Reading “Terror at the School Bus Stop – A True-Life Story (Part III)”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged , ,

Terror at the School Bus Stop – A True-Life Story (Part II)

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By on January 20, 2011

[This Commentary originally appeared in the January 20, 1990 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

(The following is loosely based on a real life adventure as told by an eight year old.)

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259The Day: The day began as usual. My little brother and I trudged up our long street through the cold winter air. It had snowed the previous night and the moderate temperature provided perfect packing conditions. We learned the concept of “good packing snow” as Little Kids. It usually meant we could expect to be ambushed by a flurry of snowballs from virtually any direction. As two solitary figures walking sluggishly in the middle of a long street, we had all the makings of fine targets

Sometimes the Older Guys would sneak down behind us and try to pelt us with snowballs. Every once in a while they would score a direct hit in the back of my head and cold icy snow would melt down my neck and behind my shirt. We felt much safer Continue Reading “Terror at the School Bus Stop – A True-Life Story (Part II)”

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Terror at the School Bus Stop – A True-Life Story (Part I)

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By on January 13, 2011

[This Commentary originally appeared in the January 11, 1990 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

(The following is loosely based on a real life adventure as told by an eight year old.)

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259The Start: The focus of my formative years had to be the School Bus Stop. That – and summer vacation – provided the best opportunity of non-structured learning. School and my family both taught me very important things I needed to know, but only places like the School Bus Stop allowed me to begin to practice that knowledge and learn for myself.

My School Bus Stop lay at the top of a half mile long dead end street. I knew the exact length because we had the last house on the street. Each day would begin with my mother pushing me and my little brother out the front door and into the real world. She would always leave us with nice thoughts in hopes of spurring us on to academic achievement. Little did she realize, once we reached the end of our driveway our small Continue Reading “Terror at the School Bus Stop – A True-Life Story (Part I)”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged , ,

The Morning the Music Died

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By on December 9, 2010

[This Commentary originally appeared in the December 14, 1989 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel. I decided, for the purposes of this blog, to switch this so it better coincides with the actual anniversary; hence, the beginning parenthetical note that occurred in the original publication might seem a little strange until you read next week’s post.]

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259

(C Note: OK, OK, so I’m a week late. I just thought it would be better to give our local merchants a plug as early in the Christmas season as possible.)

Chronologically, I was too young to grow up with the Beatles. Still, a very young aunt and several teenage cousins provided the avenue for me and my brother to experience at least the fringe of Beatlemania.

Not that we fully understood everything. Let me share with you just one example. During one family party in the summer of 1967,  a cousin spirited me away to her room, warning me not to tell my mother what she was about to show me. She proceeded to Continue Reading “The Morning the Music Died”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged , , ,

The Effective Use of Nonverbal Communication as Related to the Game of Chess

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By on November 30, 2010

Does this three-decade-old High School Thesis Reveal How to Get Something from Nothing?

nilJan. 13, 1978
Psychology
Mrs. MJ Jepson

During the past few years, the study of nonverbal communication, or body language, has come into being. Basically, nonverbal communication is the translating of bodily movements into behavioral characteristics.1 The technical name for this science is kinesics, as coined by Dr. Ray Birdwhistell, the main progenitor of the scientific analysis of nonverbal behavior.2 In order to decipher body language, one must take it Continue Reading “The Effective Use of Nonverbal Communication as Related to the Game of Chess”

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A Personal Reflection of A. Bartlett Giamatti

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By on September 9, 2010

[This Commentary originally appeared in the September 7, 1989 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259I sat in Woolsey Hall with 1,300 other Freshmen nearly 11 years ago to the day. At the podium stood the newly ordained University President, who’s very pompous pontification my Gates-Chili classmates had earlier warned me to be wary of. “Remember, Chris,” they advised me prior to my departure in early September, “don’t let their fancy words and snobby accents intimidate you. After all, they’re only Continue Reading “A Personal Reflection of A. Bartlett Giamatti”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life, The Compleat Carosa Commentaries Tagged , , , , ,

Rediscovering the Fighter Jock

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By on September 7, 2010

The weatherman had threatened early snow unsuccessfully for more than a week now, so it comes as no surprise when the early morning rain turns to wet snow. Rediscovering_the_Fighter_Jock_300Still, the first snow always startles, and I pause in observance before entering my cherry red Z-28. I imagine slippery conditions as I pull from the Camaro from my driveway, but by the time I travel the more than twenty miles to the field, only a faint rain precipitates from the clouds.

The fullness of fall could only mean football, a ritualistic pastime beyond the understanding of most of those who play – and impossible to fathom for those who don’t.

*                              *                              *

I can’t remember when self-doubt originally entered my mind. Certainly, years of hard Continue Reading “Rediscovering the Fighter Jock”

Posted in Memoir of a Real Life Tagged , ,

Adieu Fort A.P. Hill; Au Revoir Jamboree – Reflections on the Exciting 2010 Boy Scout Centennial Celebration

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By on August 9, 2010

Jambo Journal – Day #11, Wednesday, August 4, 2010 – The Voyage Home.

Yesterday’s entry: Life Happens When You’re Having Fun

In the journalism biz, of 890532_16433007_Farewell_to_the_Sun_stock_xchng_royalty_free_300which I’ve had an off-again on-again affair with since my salad days, there’s a trade secret regarding writing non-news stories on a tight deadline: write the story before the event actually happens. That way, you can quickly tweak it for facts based on what really happened and still have an excellent piece before the editor demands, “The presses are running now! Give me whatever you got!”

I figured nothing says “tight deadline” than shipping out day, when chaos lords over the earth and misdirection rules the day. In that spirit, I figured I’d use that ol’ trade secret. Here’s what I wrote Tuesday with what I intended to serve as the first paragraph for this entry:

The day begins early after a dewy night. We’ve already positioned our gear in the staging area near Troop 314. Now we just wait for our trucks. The buses will be coming an hour later. There’s a chance the military may require the trucks to wait for the buses. This would prove problematic if true.

Events have overwhelmed my corner-cutting strategy and would soon have me Continue Reading “Adieu Fort A.P. Hill; Au Revoir Jamboree – Reflections on the Exciting 2010 Boy Scout Centennial Celebration”

Posted in Boy Scouts, Memoir of a Real Life Tagged , ,
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