Last week, Kelly put together a post of her Top Ten people she’d like to meet, living or dead, in no particular order, and encouraged me to do the same. After a wee bit of thought, I could not limit myself to a mere ten names. There are just too many to stop at ten. So I’ll break up my fragmentary roster over a couple of posts. Here are a few folks I came up with, in no preferential order, along with a brief (or not so brief) comment on each one.

Mark Twain. If I asked you to describe a coyote, what words would you use? Twain used these: “A living, breathing allegory of Want.” Oh, for a trace of such accuracy and efficiency.

Jim Lovell. How do you keep your cool inside a sardine can when something explodes outside, dooms any chance you had of landing on the moon, and could very likely mean you’ve seen your last blade of grass? Lovell has the answer.

Anne Frank. How do you keep your cool inside a secret annex when things are exploding outside, and could mean you’ve seen your last blade of grass, too?

Ted Williams. Imagine what this ace Marine fighter pilot’s military flying career would have been like had it not been interrupted by baseball. ;^) Seriously, this man’s service to his country, which included several too-close-for-comfort brushes with the hereafter, is routinely overlooked, but he was a driven, dedicated man based on his baseball career alone.

Aside from his two Triple Crowns, 18 All Star games, six American League batting championships, four home run titles, and two MVPs, he got himself on base in a record 84 consecutive games in 1949. In 1941, going into a double header at the end of the season, he was batting .3995, enough to “technically” be credited with .400. He was given the option of sitting out the games to secure that lofty average, but turned down the offer from manager Joe Cronin, saying that “If I’m going to hit .400, it’s going to be with more than just my toenails on the line.” Williams went 6 for 8 that day, finishing at .406, the last major league player to achieve such a level of hitting excellence.

On another occasion Williams asked for less money one season after what he considered a lackluster performance the previous year. How many of today’s prima donnas do that?

Even if you’re not a sports fan, there is an important life lesson to be learned from the way Williams approached hitting a baseball: never swing at a ball that’s out of the strike zone. So much of what we deal with everyday is out of the proverbial “strike zone.” Television programs, junk food, computer and video games, telephone solicitations, politicians, advertising, high fructose corn syrup, mendacious general contractors, rap, news media, infomercials, extended warranty contracts, awful movies, road rage, Britney Spears, cigarettes, etc., etc. These are things often best ignored, like a "3 and oh" fastball in the dirt. Williams said that if you start swinging at pitches that are a half inch out of the zone, soon they’ll be a full inch outside, and before long you’ll be chasing nothing but bad pitches. In life, everyone swings at bad pitches once in a while, but I like Williams’ disciplined practice of letting the bad stuff sail right on by.

Fred Banting and Charles Best. I owe my life to them.

Jesus Christ. Speaking of people I owe my life to . . .