Being Ron

Meet Ron.

I've worked with Ron for nearly nine years at Nebraska public television and radio, and I simply have to say: this man is amazing.

Ron is in his 80s...but you would never know it. He doesn't look it, and he certainly doesn't act it. This is the man who recently returned from a trip to Antarctica, where he spent two weeks exploring the frozen, barren landscape. Last year he hiked the Himalayas in Bhutan. And not too long ago he flew through the Amazon jungle on a zip line with his grandchildren.

If I were in my 80s I would not vacation on an iceberg, and I certainly wouldn't schlep to the office every day if I didn't have to. I might settle into the recliner with the New Yorker and a heating pad pressed against the small of my back, but not Ron. His car, a zippy, red Cooper Mini, is often one of the first in the parking lot each morning. And that's the way it's been since the beginning, back in 1955 when Ron was hired as a producer/director for Nebraska public broadcasting, just shortly after the station was launched.

What's most remarkable about Ron, though, isn't his zest for adventure or his passion for public broadcasting or even his unflagging energy – it's his spirit.

In the nine years I've known Ron I've never seen him grumpy or discouraged, jaded or weary. I've never heard him utter a pessimistic or unkind word. And I've never walked away from a conversation with him feeling anything but inspired, uplifted and rejuvenated.

The 80-year-old rejuvenates the 40-year-old. Funny how that works.

My boss recently mentioned that he considers Ron to be his best friend at work. "I don't doubt it," I told Jeff. "I think a lot of people consider Ron to be their best friend here."

A couple of weeks ago I ran into Ron in the stairwell, and we climbed together toward fourth floor (it goes without saying that he was significantly less winded than I).

"Hey, Ron," I said, gripping the metal handrail and trying to sound spry. "How ya doing today?"

"Great!" Ron answered, holding the door open for me, mug of steaming coffee in his hand [note to self: drink more coffee].

I stopped in the threshold and looked him straight in the eye. "Ron, I've never heard you answer that question any other way," I said. "You're always great. You're always so happy and positive. I love that about you!"

"Well, why not?" he answered, grinning. "What's not to be happy about? Every day is a gift."

As I watched him walk down the hallway, black shirt tucked into jeans, trademark black cowboy boots, shock of white hair, I realized that I want to be more like Ron...and not just when I'm 80. I want to be more like Ron today.

I don't know anyone else like him. Ron doesn’t merely proclaim every day to be a gift. He lives it.

Do you know any Rons in your life?


Linking up with Jennifer V. Davis's Journeys series today. She's talking about "goodness," (one of the fruits of the Spirit) and Ron fits the bill!