The Trampoline

Dear Boo and Bubble,

We had the good fortune night before last to catch Lyle Lovett’s concert at the Schaefer Center for Performing Arts on the campus of Appalachian State University. Our first introduction to him was over twenty years ago when your Aunt Bee was a soloist with The Boston Ballet. One of their programs was set to several of his songs…quite an incongruity in that these classically trained ballet dancers performed to such titles as She’s No Lady…She’s My Wife, Ugly from the Front, and She’s Hot to Go. We became fans of his music then but had sort of lost track and were delighted to learn he would be performing so close by.

Lovett is a native Texan, and one who prides himself in that fact—which is pretty typical of Texans (much like your Texas-born great grandmother Mary who never really got over being transplanted to South Carolina…but that is a story for another day). He has circulated for years in the upper echelon of country music talent as both a singer and song writer. For the most part, his lyrics fall under the “tongue in cheek” category but some provoke more nuanced attention, especially with the benefit of explanation as to their origins. Seeing him live gave us the opportunity to hear many personal anecdotes about his life and to learn of the influences that molded him…and his words…over the years.

He talked about growing up near Houston and shared how much his family—both immediate and extended—meant to him. Music became a passion at an early age but his parents, while not discouraging the pursuit of it, still insisted on a “plan B” which led him to Texas A&M where he majored in Journalism and German. While reminiscing about his folks, Lovett made what I thought to be a very loving tribute.

“My parents did everything they had to do in order that I could do whatever I wanted to do.”

This profession struck me immediately as noteworthy, but the longer I sat with these simple words, the more profound they became. Perhaps it was the setting—a sixty-something-year-old man, singularly spotlighted on a stage. musing out loud to an audience of some 2500 perfect strangers about the gratitude he feels for the sacrifices made on his behalf. Even though Lovett fully confessed he came to this realization as most of us do…in retrospective deference as adults…his words were no less sincere.

It is a universal tenet. The purpose of parenting should always be for the betterment of the child. And the stronger the trampoline, the higher the flight.

I am reminded of a similar homage your great granddaddy Schaefer paid in one of his editorials for The Greenville News back in October of 1993. (It was entitled “Lessons of Great Depression Remain Important” and I’ve previously blogged about the thoughts he conveyed at that time but in a different context.) If Lyle Lovett were to read these words, I think he’d completely relate to this segment of great granddaddy’s desires for his lineage.

“I want them to know my widowed mother made enormous sacrifices in order for me to attend college and law school.  That these sacrifices were made willingly, eagerly and tenderly, out of a heart as big as a child’s imagination and out of unconditional love that redeemed me more than once.

I want them to know when I received my law degree on June 1, 1939, at the football field of USC in Columbia, with the thermometer hovering at 100, my mother and grandmother were in the stands receiving that diploma with me which the three of us had earned.”