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Steel Ribbons is finally finished - sort of. "Finished" is not really the right term - pushed out of the nest is better. Da Vinci said, "Art is never finished, only abandoned." But how can we abandon our children? Also, since I can't presume to think of my work as art, I prefer to believe that I've pushed Steel Ribbons out of the nest and now I'm watching it plummet, expecting it to take wing any second. If it hits the ground, I'll pick it up and take it back to the nest for some more preening. When the feathers are a little longer, I'll push it out again.
Steel Ribbons is about how fear of death and praise for athletic pursuits drove me to become a pro ballplayer, an airline pilot, and a Mormon bishop. It's the story of a small town boy who makes it to the big leagues and beyond - to the even bigger big leagues of self understanding.
The entire book is set at my Mom's kitchen table, on the day of her funeral, when memories helped me discover my true self. I learned what motivated me, and how those motivations caused me to perform for the praise of others more than for love of sport, or of God. My inner self came to the surface revealing that most of what I'd accomplished was irrelevant.
My new life started that day at Mom's kitchen table.
