Update: this newspaper column was from a week or so ago. It didn’t get posted for various reasons, but I’ve gotten good feedback on it, so decided to post it a bit late. 

I don’t know if it’s the weather, or the fact that the legislature is in session (the session just ended), but I’ve been involved in a number of conversations lately about “what’s wrong with West Virginia.” Of course, the opinions are all over the map with different people making passionate cases for opposite things. I’ve heard people complain about everything from taxation, to the business climate to the education system to political favoritism and drug use. Frankly, it’s probably all of the above.

Most of the time I just listen. Friends of mine will be surprised by that. I remember a good friend, when I was in my early 20s, commenting that it was obvious I wasn’t married because I loved to argue. I don’t know if it’s because of marriage, but I don’t like to “debate” nearly as much as I used to. It seems like I learn a lot more now that I am staying quiet and listening. (I guess wisdom does come with age…)

In one argument, a friend talked about returning to Charleston after a trip to a major city. He said he was reminded of everything we don’t have here: restaurants and culture and arts to name a few things. Of course, we have all of those things, but not on a scale that big cities do and sometimes it’s easy to forget what we do have or miss it if you aren’t paying attention. On the other hand, he said he was comfortable here and didn’t want to live in one of those cities.

The population in the United States has nearly doubled in the last 50 years, while the population in West Virginia slipped slightly. If we’d kept pace with the rest of the country, there would be approximately 3.5 million people in West Virginia.

I see a lot that’s right in West Virginia. And a lot bothers me, too. And I definitely don’t pretend to have the answers. I will say I have a lot more respect for the people who are trying to find ways to “fix” problems rather than just complaining about them.

Researching a new project, I just read a book about the salt industry in the Kanawha Valley in the first half of the 19th century, leading up to the Civil War. It was probably the first extractive industry in the state (although it was western Virginia at the time). Salt was a major reason for logging and coal mining in the area, and led to the chemical industry and oil and natural gas exploration. Interestingly, salt makers faced many of the same issues we do today with boom and bust cycles, favoritism, international competition and distribution issues.

Maybe it’s time to turn our solutions on their head. Not that we shouldn’t take advantage of our God-given gifts and natural resources, but those industries have had problems and been prone to cycles since the beginning. The best resource we have here is our people and the natural beauty that surrounds us. We need to support small businesses and entrepreneurs who can deliver things people are interested in and make our home a place people want to come to live.

With that everything else will come..

Today is St. Patrick’s Day, another holiday that has gotten so far from its original intent to be nearly unrecognizable. St. Patrick is a patron saint of Ireland and is believed to have died on March 17 in 461. He is famous for bringing Christianity to Ireland. But he wasn’t Irish.

As a youth, Patrick was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland as a slave. He eventually escaped and made his way home, where he became a priest. He later returned to Ireland and began converting the Celts to Christianity.

But what about the shamrock, “wearing of the green” and excessive drinking?

• Patrick used the three-leaved shamrock to explain the holy trinity of Christianity.
• Green has been associated with Ireland for centuries and has greater roots in Irish nationalism than anything to do directly with St. Patrick.
• Since St. Patrick’s Day was a feast day in the church, Lenten restrictions on eating and drinking alcohol were lifted. In the middle of Lent, it became an excuse to over-indulge.

Somewhere between nine and 10 million Irish citizens left home over the last three hundred years. At its peak, the population of Ireland was only 8.5 million. Today, there are about six and a half million people living in Ireland. Estimates vary, but approximately 80 million people world-wide claim Irish descent and 36 million of them are Americans. Oppression, religious and governmental, famine and starvation, and opportunity were all reasons the Irish left home.

A large group of Irish (and Scots) settlers ended up in West Virginia and throughout Appalachia. Opportunities to build railroads and canals, along with timbering and coal mining, were primary draws. I’m sure some of them ended up here because the mountains and the forests reminded them of home. That’s probably what led many of them to put down roots and stay. I often wonder what it must have been like to board a ship crossing the Atlantic with little or no money, no job and only a vague understanding of what they faced. It must have been terrifying, but they did it anyway. They brought with them so many traditions that we take for granted, and assume are part of Appalachian life, from music to dancing to food and even beer and whiskey production.

The actual holiday for St. Patrick isn’t until next Tuesday, but many bars and restaurants will celebrate the holiday this weekend. It’s much easier to overindulge on a weekend, than on a weeknight.  So, have fun this weekend, and have a designated driver or call a cab, but in the midst of your Irish “céilí” remember the nerve and determination it took to bring it to you.

Everyone can be Irish for a night on St. Patrick’s Day..

In the deepest, darkest middle of last week when the temperatures were lucky to get up to 0 (and wind chills gave us double digit negative numbers) not to mention the snow that piled up and couldn’t/wouldn’t melt, there was one sign of hope. Pitchers and catchers reported to Spring Training.

I will be the first to admit I’m not an avid baseball fan. I don’t watch games on television (except maybe during the pennant races) and I don’t keep stats on score sheets at every home game like several people I know. For me, going to the ball park is a rite of summer and a way to spend those hot, sticky days when simply moving causes you to sweat. And knowing that those days are coming reminds me to hold on just a little longer when the winter gets me down or makes me crazy. Or both.

I have memories of going to see Charleston Charlies games as a kid. I have memories of going to the same ballpark with my buddies and tanning our hides in the sun sitting in the cheap seats down the Third Base line and enjoying an adult beverage or four watching the Wheelers/Alley Cats. For a while I lived in Durham, North Carolina and went to see the Durham Bulls play. The Bulls play in a spiffy AAA ballpark now, not the aging one in the movie Bull Durham. That park is operated by a small college for their team and a couple different local festivals. I have walked that infield on a couple occasions and enjoyed the history of the place.

I’ve already secured my season tickets for the WV Power. I’ll be back down the Third Base line with some buddies, although I don’t spend any time in my seat with my shirt off like I did as a 20-something. And that is probably best for all concerned.

At a couple games, I’ll have my daughters with me, too. Not that I expect them to become huge fans or even players. They have connections to a local collegiate softball team and I’m sure they could get some coaching if they asked, but that isn’t the point. It is about family memories and hanging out in the summer. It is about time with friends and cruising to see who is at the ballpark.

Those are good summer memories that will stick with them for a lifetime. And, that’s what keeps me moving forward when it is 0 degrees outside with a windchill that says “stupid”.

Play Ball!.

A week or so ago, I had the opportunity to listen to Landau Eugene Murphy, Jr. He was in Charleston for an appearance. I had respect for him before, but listening to him in person raised my respect for him immensely.

And he didn’t sing at all.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. He did sing just a little bit, but more just playing around and only a few stanzas of a couple songs. His appearance was talking about the creative process and being true to yourself. And it was very cool.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, Murphy, Jr. is a jazz singer from Logan County. He won the reality show American’s Got Talent in 2011 and has done well for himself. Many “reality show winners” end up being a flash in the pan, blowing up one day and disappearing the next. Murphy, Jr. has done a really good job of staying relevant, touring and raising money for charity with his music. He has a new album coming out soon.

Murphy, Jr. was at the West Virginia State University Economic Development Center giving a Creators talk. He spoke to a lot of different things, including being on the reality show and meeting various celebrities, but what made the appearance impressive was his thoughts on creativity.

“We have a choice. We can be positive or negative. We have the power and the choice. Everything I’ve gotten is a blessing. Because it is a blessing, I’m supposed to inspire others,” he explained. “I grew up on Snoop Dog, and all that, but I choose to look for the positive. I sing as if Biggie Smalls was Nat King Cole and it comes out great. My music is blue skies and fluffy clouds. That is just me being who I am.”

Murphy, Jr. talked about his audition in New York for the reality show. He said there was a room full of people singing Frank Sinatra songs. They were all dressed like Frank, including the suits and the hats. And then there he was, 6’4” with dreadlocks.

“I noticed none of them had confidence. Why would the judges believe in you if you don’t believe in you? They had amazing talent, but no stage presence,” he said. “I could have sung on a mic with recorded tracks, but I thought my audience deserved more.”

Murphy, Jr. bristled just a bit when someone suggested he had “overnight” success. And he related that to everyone who is struggling to “make it” in whatever they are trying to do. “I’ve been blessed with many talents. It is really hard when you have those talents and nothing is happening. Everyone feels like it was overnight, but for me it was a lifetime,” he said. “You just have to believe in who you are. Nobody can be you like you.”

Of course, the music industry and every other creative outlet whether it is writing or music or art has people telling you how you are “supposed” to do things or that “you can’t do it that way.”

“What got me where I am is being true to me and I’m not changing that,” he explained of his decision to sing jazz and happy music. “The hardest part is staying true to yourself. It is just me being me. If I lose that, it’s not true.”

I’m a bigger fan now than I was before..

Watching the Super Bowl, I was amused with the McDonalds promotion showing people confused about the request to pay for their meals with a little “lovin”. I’m not sure how the promotion will work for McDonalds, and I probably won’t go there just to try to get a free sandwich, but I like the concept. The world can use some more lovin’.

This weekend features Valentine’s Day. How the celebration has evolved to where it is now is a mystery to me, but it seems a lot less about “love” than about flowers, candy and packed restaurants. It is also about single people feeling “singled out” for not having a romantic interest.

There are more than a dozen Saint Valentines on the list of beatified saints. The one the holiday is named for a priest who was beheaded in 270 AD for helping Christian couples wed. He was martyred by the Roman Emperor Claudius II. The name Valentine, incidentally, comes from the Latin word for worthy, strong or powerful. I just learned, though, that the poet Geoffrey Chaucer may have invented the holiday. In his poem, “Parliament of Foules” he wrote:

“For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne’s day / Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate”

For clarity, replace “foul” with fool and you’ll get the gist. According to History.com, the poem refers to February 14 as the day birds and humans come together to find a mate. He wrote the poem in 1375, making it one pretty long-standing tradition.

I’ve written about Valentine’s Day before, especially the different types of love that are possible. In the Greek language, there are four: Agápe, Éros, Philia and Storge. They represent God’s love, romantic love, brotherly love (think Philadelphia) and the love between parent and child, respectively.

I definitely plan to hold up my end of the bargain when it comes to the expectations of Valentine’s Day (I’m married and plan to stay that way) but I do wish there was some more Philia love in the world. Which brings me back to the McDonalds promotion. The world can use a little lovin and if it takes buying a burger and fries to get there, who am I to argue?

Happy Valentine’s Day!.