Great Family, Good Food, and a Grand Reminder

Great Family, Good Food, and a Grand Reminder

          The sound of heavy gunfire filled the air. The smell of burnt gunpowder hung as thick as a fog, as I found myself thinking shoot, shoot, shoot, reload!  Only to find once again throwing lead as fast as I had reloaded.

          This may sound like an excerpt from a WW II  movie, but in reality it’s something much less exhilarating.  This is actually the daydream I found myself in the middle of when I was supposed to be learning about the principles of agricultural economics last Friday.  This daydream about the opening day of pheasant season fascinated me far more than supply and demand, and all I could think about was the amount of birds I would see that next day.  Even as I drove home I began formulating my battle plan for the next day. 

          But all of these thoughts dwindled as I unloaded my truck, and proceeded to walk upstairs to see my mother, little demon…I mean brother, and father.  To my surprise as I made my way to the kitchen I was greeted by not only my mother, but also my grandparents who I hadn’t seen forever.  After a solid round of hello’s and hugs I went to the garage where even more guests awaited, these guests were all members of the North American Limousin Foundation.  These men, my father included, are all respected cattle men who were looking to have a good weekend of hunting just like me.  That evening was filled with cleaning a couple turkeys the NALF guys had shot, and of course attempting to put myself into a food coma afterwards.  As I ate roughly three times my body weight in pinwheels, noodles, brisket and pie jokes and stories were passed around almost as quickly as the plates.The rest of the weekend followed a much similar pattern, and before I knew it I was once again sitting behind the wheel of my Dodge truck bound for Manhattan.  This drive gave me a chance to reflect on the whole weekend.  After recounting the roughly one million miles I had walked, the amazing shots made, and of course the food, I began to dig even deeper into the meaning of this joyful getaway.

          When I really broke it down, this weekend gave me insight into my character.  The gentleman from NALF, my father, and grandfather all represented the kind of men who I respected and to some point idolized.  They were the kind of man I hoped I would someday be, whether they were cowboys, successful businessman, or just all around amazing men like my grandfather.  They all represented the ideals that I held close at heart.  My mother and grandmother represented the value that family held in my life and Jonah, well he covered all the miscellaneous fun things I enjoy. 

          This past National Convention carried the title “I Believe”.  For people to be able to believe in us we must first know exactly who we are.  Being a believable person all starts with knowing your personal character, knowing what you stand for.  This past weekend allowed me to hone in on several things that build up my character, things that make me who I am.  So I ask you: What causes others to believe in you? What makes up that rock known as your personal character?

         

         

Live, Laugh, and Love Like an Eight-Year-Old

What’s approximately 4.5 feet tall,  weighs 95 pounds,  and has an undying love  (aka an addiction) for riding horses and playing football?...  My little brother that’s what.

          Jonah Lee Smith is my 8-year-old little brother who thinks he’s 18.  He is constantly telling me how when he’s in high school he is going to wear my jacket for FFA, then borrow my district jacket because he is also going to be the district secretary.  He has also made it his life’s goal to torment me and pester me whenever possible. (Like any good little b should) Whether he is “borrowing” random items from my room, or finding new creative ways to inflict bodily harm on me, he is constantly going nonstop. Jonah has also already successfully mapped out both of our futures, and those of every animal on the ranch.  However, when this little minion isn’t scheming and keeping his energy level below that of a cheetah on red bull, I have come to realize that there is much I can learn from him. (No matter how much it hurts my big brother pride to admit it)

          You see, Jonah has competed in the county horse show for the past two years and has experienced great success in doing so.  Not because my parents hired him a special trainer, or bought him a ridiculously nice saddle complete with hand tooling, shiny conchos, and a GPS.  Jonah has experienced success because he put in countless hours practicing.  I can’t count the amount of evenings I would glance up from working with a colt to see him running poles or barrels on his mighty steed Sandy.  I do recall one night in particular though where little pooky as we call him, rounded a pole only to somehow catapult from the saddle and land with a mighty thud in the arena dirt. He hit hard enough that if you would look in the arena I’m pretty sure there is still a crater where he landed, but rather than get mad or cry, Jonah simply laughed and jumped up to hobble over and catch his runaway pony.  Jonah laughed because to him this wasn’t practice, and it wasn’t work, to him it was just good ol’ fashion playing.  Playing: something that we seem to forget how to do as we get older.

          After county fair season, it is flag football for Jonah.  Being away at college, I have been unable to watch any of his games.  Thankfully I got a call from him awhile back to keep me up to speed.  After he sadly informed/apologized to me that he wasn’t filling my shoes as a lineman, and playing quarterback, Jonah went on to give me the play-by-play of all his games.  After this recap he went off on a tangent about college and professional football.  This recap rivaled that of any ESPN commentary I have ever watched. What was even more impressive to me was the fact that he not only knows roughly 80 times as much as I did at age 8, but knew more than I know about collegiate ball even now.  He could tell me every play from the K-State game and what our QB could have done better. (This stems from the fact that Jonah thinks he could play for K-State today) This conversation has shown me one thing in particular: Jonah has a true blue passion for this sport, and I know as long as this passion continues he will be 5 times the athlete I ever dreamed of being.

          So what can we learn from Jonah?  We can see the obvious importance of laughing and playing; two things that should never have been left on the playground.  “Playing” is a dying way for us to get away from stress, and a way for us to make mundane or monotonous tasks fun and enjoyable.   We should also note how much passion his small stature contains.  All too often I catch myself doing things half-heartedly, which leads to average results.  If we would approach the things we love in life with half the amount of heart that my little brother has it would be shock us all to the core to see what we never knew we were capable of. 

So the next time you’re in class, on the field, court, mat, or in the arena think of Jonah and never forget to Live, Laugh, and Love Like an Eight-Year-Old.