Bryce Mansfield: Not Quite 10 Years and Counting

I suppose I could wait until next year. Next year, it'll be 10 years.

10.

That's hard to believe. Doesn't seem possible. But then, writing something up on the 10 year anniversary in some ways just seems too cliche and formulaic, and if there's one thing he wasn't, it was formulaic.

Our best friend... my buddy... my brother... an uncle, if only symbolically, to my kids... a stranger to absolutely no one... Bryce Mansfield, passed away on this date 9 years ago today. He was 42 years old. Far too young. Far too early.

I miss him. Early on after his death, the times he crossed my mind, the times I would see something, or encounter something that would make me think of him was much more frequent that it is now. To some, that might sound somewhat demeaning. "What? You don't think of him everyday?" No, I don't. Just being brutally honest, perhaps, but then, I think if we can all just be honest for a moment, that's most likely the case with all of us.

It makes us feel better to say things like, "I miss him everyday," or even post something of that sort to our social media accounts, even though it might not be true. We do it because it makes us feel better just to think it, even if we don't actually believe it. Bryce, and the countless thousands and millions of other lost loved ones aren't here to console us. We must console ourselves with their memories.

And yet, for most of us, somehow, someway, we seem to survive and move on and the daily reminders of those we've lost become more infrequent, replaced by the everyday goings on of whatever paths our lives take after the loss. Sad, in many ways, and too bad, and yet, there's very little we can do about. Building the shrine and not moving on has rarely, if ever, worked out for anyone.

And still, is it so sad after all? Is it so bad that we are frequented less and less with the memories of our loved ones that remind us of a loss that will only surely depress us? I don't think so.

I don't think Bryce would think so either.

You know what happens? As time and distance do their thing, we heal. More slowly for some than others, but we heal nonetheless. And with that healing comes comfort. Time and distance have a strange, mysterious, glorious way of stripping away the bad memories and unhappy moments, leaving behind only the good memories and happy thoughts. It happens in every aspect of our lives. A breakup, a divorce, a lost job, and the loss of a loved one. Over time, the hurt slowly fades away and we're left to remember only the good things.

In every symbolic and spiritual, if not biological, sense of the word, Bryce and I were brothers. As such, we could get on each others nerves and exasperate each other at times. Bryce made decisions in his life I didn't agree with, and I made decisions he didn't like. But you know, I don't remember much of them now. The times I DO remember that exasperated me at the time make me laugh now.

And what I wouldn't give now for Bryce to exasperate me somehow.

If you knew Bryce -- and many people did -- then I don't have to explain him to you. You are full aware of everything that made Bryce, Bryce. From his massive hands, his superhuman strength, his magnificent autograph, and his infectious laugh, to his stupid sneezes, his beautiful photography, his incredible compassion, and his love for Jesus.

A big man, who truly had the biggest heart of anybody I've ever known. Saw the good in everybody, and fiercely protected those he loved. Though not related, he treated my boys as sons, even though they -- and all their friends -- called him Uncle Bryce. True story: My son played basketball with his buddies on their Christian school Jr. High team, and a game -- underway and in action -- came to a halt once when Bryce walked into the gym after tipoff and the boys on the team stopped mid play, yelled "Uncle Bryce!" and ran over and gave him a hug. I'm not kidding.

Bryce had that kind of effect on people.

Look, I could go on and on. Some people complain my blogs are too long anyway. I could write a book about Bryce, and who knows, maybe some day I will. I could tell story after story.

If you knew, you knew. If you didn't, then I feel bad for you, because you missed out on one cool, special dude.

As for me, I have a picture of Bryce hanging in my living room. I hung it on that wall when I moved into this place six years ago, and it will hang there until somebody takes it down long after I'm gone myself. There's a story behind that picture, but it's a little too long to tell here. If you want to hear it sometime, let me know.

But I guess I get to think of Bryce a little more often than I realize, because I walk past that picture and look at it several times a day. So maybe he's not so far back in my memories after all.

I'll tell ya what though. I'm jealous of the Bryce in that picture. Today, Bryce would be 51 years old. I'm sure his body would be breaking down more than it was back then. That's part of what sucks about getting old. But in that picture, Bryce is 40 years old. I'll die someday, and I'll be at least 53. I might be 100. Who knows? But Bryce will be 40 forever. We were roughly the same age for 40 years, but I will never know Bryce as an old man, even though I'll become much older than him.

I don't know, that makes me feel good for some reason. He'll never age. When I'm old and gray, God willing, he'll still be a young man, and in many ways, he deserves that.

Nine years. Next year will be 10. Then 11, and so on. And I'll keep moving on. Missing him, yes. And, maybe, more daily than I realize. And that's OK. It's the good in Bryce that still inspires me to try to be a good dude myself. And if someone, long after I'm gone, writes that I was a good dude, well then I hope Bryce would approve. I think he would.

My youngest son who is loaded up with tattoos that his mother and I hate, was especially close to Bryce. I was glad for it then, and I'm glad for it now. I mentioned above that Bryce had a magnificent autograph. And he did. Just a glorious signature. Very cool. A representation of that signature was my son's first tattoo. I think he did it because he knew his Mom and I couldn't get mad about it.

Bryce would have liked it. That's all that really matters.

Salaries: No One to Blame but Us

Seen several meme's in the past week or so with regard to the recent near-tragedy of Buffalo Bills player, Damar Hamlin. The meme in question is a picture of the ambulance on the field, usually circled by an imaginary red marker, with words to the effect of... "The least paid people on the field are the people who saved Hamlin's life..." The implication, of course, being that the first responders who showed up -- in the tow of the Bills and Bengals medical staff who were actually the first to administer care to Hamlin - are severely underpaid. The football players on the field that night earn massively more money than do the emergency and medical personnel who saved Hamlin's life.

It's true, of course. And quite frankly, I'm tired of hearing about it. There is most certainly a huge chasm between the salaries of the likes of professional athletes, and those of medical and emergency personnel, and, for the purposes of this debate, teachers. And there's only one group of people to blame for that wage gap...

Us.

It's our fault. And the reality is, most people want to complain about it, but they really don't want to do anything to fix it. And, sadly, the only group of people who can change it is, again, us.

Firstly, most teachers and medical and emergency personnel are paid by the government. (I realize some EMS workers are paid by hospitals or some other private medical firms. But not all) Be it local, which is where most of the funds come from, or state and federal funds, the wages and salaries of those workers come from tax money -- yours and mine. I won't get into the weeds of exactly where that money comes from, and what taxes are specifically used to pay those salaries, but the bottom line is, they are public employees, and they are paid with our tax money.

So the simple reality is, we, the general public, through the mechanism of elections -- again, at both the local, and the state and federal levels -- choose representatives who then determine what funds are available for those salaries, and at what levels those salaries are set. Our representatives set the salaries of our public employees with our tax money. It's really not more complicated than that.

So, they make what they make based on those parameters. To increase those salaries, one of two things (or a combination of both) has to happen: Either more tax money has to be collected and allocated to said salaries, or other government funding has to be cut and THAT money has to be allocated to salaries. That's about it. There is no magical place where money comes from, and no magical formula our representatives have that can magically increase salaries.

And there's the rub. Most people don't want their taxes raised... period. How many of you have complained about how much a teacher or a policeman makes, and yet have voted against a tax referendum that would raise more revenue for a school? How many of you griped about how much a fireman or an EMS worker earns, and yet have allowed your representatives to give money away to China, or to fund a grant study on cow farts?

But here's the real doozy: Raise your hand if you'd be willing to see our government cut spending on something like cancer research or autism research if that money could be used to raise teacher's salaries? Who would be in favor of cutting disaster relief if we could use that money to pay policemen more?

THAT's the real problem. We ALL think these people deserve more money, we just don't want to do the things necessary to make it happen. We foolishly vote for the same representatives over and over again who make the same decisions and pass the same laws (even AFTER we cry and complain that we should "throw them all out!" How many of you who think we should "throw them all out" actually voted for a different candidate last election?) We vote against tax increases (and we should, by the way) and yet at the same time don't want funding cut to whatever pet cause we happen to support. Ask a person who's parent just died from cancer if they'd like the government to cut funding for cancer research to raise teacher salaries. Ask a parent with an autistic child if they'd like funding cut for autism research for the same reasons. Ask liberal abortion supporters if they'd like funding for Planned Parenthood cut to use the money to pay policemen and firemen more.

You get the point.

But here's the second issue:

There's only one group of people to blame for the exorbitant salaries made by professional athletes (and other entertainers):

Yep. Us.

We pay athletes salaries. We buy the tickets. We buy the concessions. We pay the parking fees. We buy the merchandise. We buy the products that are advertised during the games we watch on television. We pay the streaming fees to watch the games. It's our fault.

Do you think a pro sports team owner would pay a player millions of dollars per year if he didn't have the revenue to pay it? And where do you think that money comes from? And you think athletes are OVERPAID? If a McDonald's franchise owner charged $50 for a Big Mac, and people paid it willingly, do you think it would be fair to pay the employees minimum wage who make it and serve it to you?

If we, as a society, are willing to pay the prices we pay for entertainment, et al -- and we are -- thus earning the owners of those entities sometimes billions of dollars in revenue, then why shouldn't the guys who generate that revenue get a fair share of it? We don't like it because it's massive amounts of money we can't wrap our heads around, but the truth is, we all feel exactly the same way when it comes to our own salaries, even though we're talking about much smaller sums of money.

Generally, most employment sectors pay their employees fairly based on the revenue they generate. (I did say "generally"!) Labor unions demand it. And because Big Macs only cost about $5 each, the average worker at McDonalds isn't going to get a million dollar a year contract. Many of you reading this right now work a job for which you think you are fairly compensated. And if you don't, you're either complaining about it, or trying to do something about it. In any event, you're either being fairly compensated, or looking for a job where you'll be fairly compensated, whatever that means to you. If you go to McDonalds and demand a 5 year, $1.5 million contract, it probably ain't gonna happen.

Regardless, athletes make what they make because the public pays what they pay to generate the revenue from which they are paid. That money doesn't grow on trees. It comes from us. Every time a team raises their ticket prices, we pay it. Every time they raise the price for a jersey, we pay it. And if we'd stop paying it, they would eventually have to adjust salaries back down.

And before you say... "Not me! I don't give the NFL a dime of my money," or some other such nonsense, first of all, you're either lying, or lying to yourself. Every time you buy a Bud light, or a bag of Doritos, or watch a TV program on any major network, you're giving money to a major sports team. Like or not, directly or indirectly. In some cases, it's inevitable. Unless you wanna become the Unabomber and move to a cabin in the woods, money you're spending somewhere is likely helping raise revenue for a pro or college sports outfit.

But worse... we're back to the Cancer vs. Autism debate. You may not support the NFL. You may hate the NBA or Major League Baseball. You might not even ever go to the movies. But I'd bet my grandchildren you're doing something to help the entertainers of our society make a whole bunch of money. Maybe you don't go to the movies, but you watch every episode of every iteration of CSI ever put out on TV. You might hate the NFL, but you watched the NCAA football championship the other night. You might boycott the NBA, but you bought your kid those Jordans he wanted so bad for his birthday. You downloaded Taylor Swift's latest songs, which just happens to be on the same label as that rapper you hate so much.

You buy the products, watch the programs, or otherwise support whatever it is that gets your own juices flowing. And if you didn't, whatever that is wouldn't generate as much revenue as it does.

And what is so terrible anyway? Think about what we would do in our society if we didn't have these recreations to turn to. To get away from life for awhile and just enjoy something. Sports, movies, and all other forms of recreation are necessary to our society to provide us all a respite every now and then, if for no other reason than to help prevent us all from killing one another eventually. What would we do without them?

Nevertheless, I'm tired of hearing people complain about it. I really am. If you believe our public employees are heroes and deserve higher salaries, then start making the changes that will make it happen. If you think athletes are overpaid, stop spending your money on things that support the industry.

But remember this... you're a very small fish in a very big ocean. You can do your part, but good luck getting several hundred million of your friends to follow your lead. If you think NFL stadiums are going to go empty anytime soon because most of the free world suddenly decided to take a moral high road... well... good luck with that.

Similarly, if you think society is suddenly going to agree on how to force our government to spend our tax money... well... good luck with too. You can take this to the bank... you're never gonna get the cancer research guy and the Planned Parenthood guy to agree on much of anything when it comes to how government money should be spent, even IF they both agree that teachers and EMS workers should be paid more. Call me a fatalist. I prefer to think I'm a realist.

Meanwhile... either do something about it, or stop griping about it.