Thoughts from Dr. Joe: Making diamonds from rhinestones

I’m still puzzled about an email I received last week. “Dr. Joe, you’re OCD, aren’t you?” That’s obsessive-compulsive disorder. It sure got me thinking. I fired a quick response. “What’s your reference?” I haven’t heard back yet. I think I spooked her.

I’ve been known to drink water welled in the impression of a tire track in the middle of the jungle. And, if I had a nickel for every rollie pollie I’ve eaten trying to show my Daisy Scouts that most bugs are harmless, I could buy a chai latte at Starbucks.

Nevertheless, I Googled the symptoms. Nope! It ain’t me.

My fastidious nature is not a result of obsessive-compulsive disorder; instead, it’s a proclivity toward excellence. Thomas Aquinas said, “The test of the artist does not lie in the will with which he goes to work, but in the excellence of the work he produces.” (I’m sure that got a laugh out of my editor, Carol Cormaci. She’s always correcting my typos. But I’m dyslexic; subsequently, an “e” often appears to be an “r.”)

The other day I helped Suzy Lawrence’s Girl Scout troop, #4751, prepare for color guard duties at the Les Tupper Award ceremony at JPL. The award is for community service. I assume the Scouts were perplexed by the number of times I made them practice; however, children are naturally enthusiastic. They are too young to understand that excellence is not an act, but a habit.

I approached the lesson by not only describing its mechanics but also explaining the Zen of the ceremony. I was pleased the children were aware that a flag detail is shrouded in reverence. I’d love to see thought permeate throughout the schools and the community.

Instead of pulling from either Girl or Boy Scout protocol, I used the Landing Party Manual. Its doctrine is foundational to military ceremonies. The evolution of this naval doctrine evolved from the drill field at Valley Forge. I’m sure half the students in La Cañada remember the Prussian officer, Inspector General Von Steuben. He set the tone and timber of ceremonial and tactical formations. What he taught in 1777 and 1778 is how we raise the flag and how the new Continental Army defeated the British. What I learned from the general is that an individual’s bearing sets the tone of the ceremony. Bearing evolves from respect. Scout Ava Hulett stepped up as the ceremonial adjutant and brought the presence. Carissa Rayer assumed the duties as the Sergeant of the Guard, which also was Von Steuben’s idea.

The little Girl Scouts were eager to have a role in the detail; however, not everyone could carry the flag. And since there were two flags, American and the state banner, I assigned two flag bearers per flag.

Many traditions regarding protocol are steeped in history. During the Civil War and at the Battle of Chattanooga, the 24th Wisconsin Regiment was stalled on Missionary Ridge. The flag bearer went down. Lt. Arthur MacArthur grabbed the flag from the fallen soldier and screamed, “On Wisconsin!” The Union swept the field and saved the day. I’m sure you’ve heard the song at University of Wisconsin football games.

Circumstance rarely happens in a void. Instead, it’s typically cloaked in tradition, which then is foundational to respect.

The evening ended at the La Cañada Gold Award rehearsal. I was there with two of my Scouts, Juliette Mekikian and Simone Puglia. They are the last vestiges of Troop 8891 to receive the award. Once again, Christie Frandsen and the remarkable leaders of the La Cañada Council demonstrated the construct of excellence. They did it through teaching the girls respect. I don’t have the words to describe their meticulous attention to detail. But as Dolly Parton said, “Excellence is making diamonds from rhinestones.”

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JOE PUGLIA is a practicing counselor, a retired professor of education and a former officer in the Marines. Reach him at doctorjoe@ymail.com. Visit his website at doctorjoe.us.