Life is good

I've been doing a lot of reading, lately. That's nothing unusual, for me. I like to read. 

The trouble, sometimes, is finding interesting reading material. After all, three of my favorite nationally syndicated newspaper columnists are Mike Royko, Bill Buckley and Hunter Thompson. As you may have heard, they're all just a little bit dead.

Two weeks ago, a co-worker was kind enough to share "Under the Dome," an 1,100-page behemoth (tome?) by Stephen King. Less than halfway through the book, characters named Angie and Rory had been killed and the town's only local newspaper had been burned to the ground. Thanks, Lisa. Great read.

But then, this morning, I had a chance to revisit two stories that I hope you'll find interesting. Maybe you've heard of Brian Grant. You probably haven't heard of Jan Glidewell.

Grant was a professional athlete. Glidewell was a professional newspaperman and a great columnist.

Grant has Parkinson's disease.

Glidewell has cancer. Stage 4. Brain and lung.

I've seen Brian Grant play basketball in high school, college and the NBA. 

I've read columns by and have corresponded with Jan Glidewell prior to his retirement from the Tampa/St. Pete Times along Florida's Sun Coast.

Their personal stories include the understandable sadness of life's curveballs, but also a unique and inspiring perspective as they look ahead to the remainder of their respective journeys. 

During a recent speech in Portland, Ore. (Grant played for the Portland Trail Blazers), the former Georgetown G-Man talked about those "what if" moments in all of our lives.

Grant, who was clasping his hands in order to keep them somewhat under control, opened his speech with a bit of self-deprecating Parkinson's humor: "I'm nervous," he told the audience. "I don't know if you know that."

The crowd returned appreciative – with reserved understanding – laughter.

Prior to his speech, Grant had placed a domino at everyone's seat.

"The domino is symbolic of the 'what if' moments in our lives," he said. "You can't always control the outcome, but you can always control the effort you put in."

Grant explained two of his personal "what if" moments more than 20 years ago.

• What if he hadn't heard a college radio advertisement one day in the car and said to his mother, "I'm going to college." What if his mother hadn't scolded him for not taking academics seriously?

• What if Mr. Stanley Martt (a teacher at Georgetown High School) hadn't given Grant a second chance to pass his class and avoid flunking out?

Grant wonders, what if? 

"What Mr. Martt did really changed my life," Grant said. "He read the problem to me. (I correctly answered 'C'.) If that doesn't happen for Brian Grant, I don't go to college. I don't go to the NBA. And I'm not here today talking to you."

Grant was offered the final basketball scholarship at Xavier University by Coach Pete Gillen. Grant would go on to be listed among the school's all-time leading scorers' and rebounders' lists. He was a two-time Midwest Collegiate Conference Player of the Year at Xavier University.

During the 1992-93 season's Crosstown Shootout between Xavier and the University of Cincinnati (UC won, 78-67) at UC's Shoemaker Center, seated at the baseline, I watched Grant being shoved around the paint by Bearcats center Corie Blount. I recall writing that Blount would be the better NBA player. I also recall being wrong.

After college, Grant was drafted in the first round in the 1994 NBA draft by the Sacramento Kings. He signed a five-year, $29-million contract. After the 1997, season Grant signed a seven-year, $56-million contract with the Portland Trail Blazers. 

While an NBA player, Grant started his own foundation in order to assist seriously ill children and under-privileged youths. Today, he offers similar assistance to those with Parkinson's.

"Coming down with Parkinson's humbled me in a way that I don't think anything else could have, Grant said. "Being diagnosed at the age of 36, I'm losing everything I've ever built and come to know with my body and it's slowly, slowly being taken away from me. My last year in the NBA I was with the Phoenix Suns. I was starting to see changes in my body, I knew there was something going on, I didn't know what. The ego and pride that you kind of build up over the career starts to just get knocked down."

In an interview this month with John Canzano of The Oregonian (www.oregonlive.com), Grant said: "Everybody gets dealt a bunch of crap at times. You deal with the good. You deal with the bad. It's a growing process. I'm still not all the way there. I respect each and every day that I'm given."

Good words.

Respect each and every day.

Granted, there will be times – for all of us – when we fail to heed such sound advice. But there will come a day – you'll know it, too – when you'll understand. I suspect the families of the children who attended last week's KAMP Dovetail already understand.

I suspect Jan Glidewell understands, too. 

He has two types of cancer: Brain and lung. Two demons fighting one body.

One of my favorite Glidewell quotes is this: "You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present." 

Jan once wrote that his old van was held together by liberal bumper stickers and duct tape. 

I can't profess to have had any liberal bumper stickers on my cars, trucks or vans over the the past 35 years. But I sure as hell can relate to the duct tape comment. I once used duct tape to hold the door of a Pontiac Grand-Am together for about three years. 

Jan Glidewell has been a Florida newspaperman for the past five decades. He's written funny stories, serious stories, and seriously funny stories.

His column from a few years ago touched my heart. 

Jan wrote about how tough it is for older folks to upgrade their cell phone. Trading in the ol' Jitterbug for a new iPhone, it turns out, is harder on a senior's digestive tract than having supper after 4 p.m. Don't miss the "Early Bird."

(Of course, I wouldn't know about such trials and tribulations, as I am the only man alive who does not own a cell phone and who has absolutely no intention of ever owning a cell phone.)

I think I sent Jan an email after that column. He responded. He always did.

Earlier this year, I read Bill Stevens' column (www.tampabay.com) about Jan.

"(Jan) Glidewell, 68, now has brain and lung cancer. Last November, Jan opened his monthly column in the Times with this:

"When things look the darkest, it is natural for us to look the hardest for slivers of light. We find them, or they us, at strange and unexpected times, and they don't arrive with flashing lights and bugle fanfares. Sometimes, we have to watch and listen.'

Mr. Stevens continued: "(Jan's) son, Sean Holland, had only recently lost his fight with cancer, and Jan used the occasion to honor him and thank his many friends for their support. He mentioned two in particular who had been to a wedding and were so impressed that the best man's friends, including the groom, had learned American Sign Language so the best man's hearing-impaired girlfriend would not be excluded in the ceremony."

How about that?

Mr. Stevens concluded with this: "After seeing (Jan) all these years on the front page, (readers) feel like they know him. We took a walk on the beach. A brisk wind blew off the water but the bright sun warmed our skin. I asked him, 'Why go through all the pain and sickness you're about to endure?'

"'When I'm going to die anyway?' he said, finishing what he thought was the rest of the question. 'My doctor says I might get another year, maybe two.'

"This 68-year-old man who had spent months sitting beside his dying son, who has comforted many others in their final days in hospice care, stopped and gestured toward the sea. 'This is a beautiful world,' he said. 'I like living.'"

Indeed.

In March of of this year, Florida songwriter Amy Carol Webb and Tampa Bay Times columnist Jan Glidewell collaborated on a musical tribute to a Highway 98 diner. It's called "Country Breakfast."

If I've done my "computering" correctly, you can hear "Country Breakfast" at: http://www.tampabay.com/specials/2013/audio/country_breakfast_song/ and you can also hear Brian Grant's speech at: Brian Grant video http://tedxtalks.ted.com/video/The-Domino-Effect-Brian-Grant-a.

Most likely, Brian Grant and Jan Glidewell have never met. But if they ever do, my guess is that both will part with just a little more inspiration – and appreciation.

I know I have. Life's good. It really is.

Rory Ryan is publisher of The Highland County Press.