Score

I love looking at bits and pieces of Detroit history. While visiting the Made in Detroit store at the Somerset Collection, there propped up against a wall was the scoreboard from the old Tiger's Stadium. There is something inherently cool about looking upon the lights that shined down on so much of history, the crowds, the players, the moments that were trapped in a fly ball wanting to escape a mitt and be remembered by fans. The score flashed more than a number, it illuminated the hopes of a player to bounce past obscurity and the dreams of a young kid in the benches still wearing his little league jersey.

So much of what we do and who we are is designated by a score of somekind; a credit score, a klout score, a test score, and even scores to settle yet, none of them tell the whole story, reveal the game of life that was played, it's players, and the happenings on the field. We see a number flashing and make an assumption by proxy forgetting the fact that some of the most incredible events in history had a loss as the catalyst that instigated an undeniable victory. When we create history, the score doesn't matter, the lights that shine in that moment do.

Big Thinking

 For those of you familiar with Michigan and the outlet mall in Birch Run, you've probably seen Tony's Restaurant right there next to the gas station before hopping back onto I-75. For those of you who have never heard of Tony's, it is one of those places every person must visit at least once in their lifetime just to say that they've been there. The walls are decorated with celebrities that have at one time or another visited and their menu is more akin to a family newsletter you'd get around the holidays filling you in on all the latest events and happenings than a list to order from. The offerings listed in the menu seem, on the surface, to be normal enough, the prices are very reasonable, and the staff are friendly and always ready with a smile. 

 In order to illustrate "big" thinking to our children, my husband and I decided we should stop by and let them order whatever they wanted. The kids were immediately giddy to see their Mythbuster Heroes on the menu and were wondering why it was that Tory and Grant hadn't come by for a visit while they were smacking the Michigan Mitten a high five. Laughing to myself, I found the most interesting thing about the scenario in how oblivious they were to the platters that streamed past them while they were so engrossed in the options typed on paper in front of their noses, how they completely missed the "big" whilst pondering the small print. 

 The waitress came by and took our orders. My daughter had chosen the Bacon, Lettuce, and Tomato sandwich. Promptly after the kids ordered, I asked them about big ideas and big thinking, what they would do if an idea got too big? The family discussion was entertaining to say the least... nothing is too big for a kid methinks. I mentioned that each of them had had an idea of what they wanted for dinner and an expectation based on past experiences of what they were going to receive. They all agreed that they had had the thought, figured it was what they wanted, and were hungry ("starving" said in an exasperated tone by the middle child) enough to eat it all and still have room for dessert.

 Dinner was served. The kid's jaws dropped and not one of them moved. Their "idea" was just so big that they honestly had no clue as to how to begin... they sat motionless and unable to move. I thought about how many times I have had this grand thought and how after thinking about it earnest, became paralyzed, unable to proceed.

 She (7): "What's the point of a big idea if you can't get your mouth around it? Maybe big ideas have to be eaten in little bites and maybe there are supposed to be left-overs." Me: "Maybe."