Just let the words flow. The most important thing is to get them out.

I’m not the biggest Stephen King fan (though I did enjoy The Shining and The Green Mile), but one day a few years ago, while browsing around Barnes & Noble, I found myself interested in his book on writing, which was appropriately titled On Writing. Though I can’t remember how exactly he said it ( or even at what point in the book), I remember laughing when I read that Stephen King recommended that aspiring writers should remember to write. Like, you know, actually put pen to paper (or maybe fingers to the keyboard — you get the picture).

By the way, in case you think I’m BS’ing about Stephen King actually telling readers to write, this dude’s got my back.

The point is that often we forget the most important part about doing something — the requirement of actually doing. So many of us talk about doing great things: quitting smoking, losing weight, getting in shape, starting our own business, writing the next great novel. I’m pretty sure I’ve said I was going to do each of those, except quit smoking, but that’s only because I never started. Maybe we do some research and then we think about it and write up a plan and we tell our friends and we get so excited and they get so excited and it’s going to be so effin’ cool whenever we put things into motion. But then…

We forget to do.

And if you want to see the importance of actually doing vs. talking about doing, look no further than my own blog. My posts have been few and sporadic lately. Sure, life gets in the way, but the truth is, I have been wanting to write since my last post. I have vocalized it, I have thought about it, I have asked myself what I would write about. I’ve done everything that a writer should do…

Except actually write.

In case you’re wondering how the picture of the lizard above is relevant to this post, I’ll go ahead and tell you that it’s not. When I searched for an image using the keyword “motionless”, it was one of the results that I was presented with and I just thought it was too cool not to include in this post. Besides, the blogging gurus — you know, those people who don’t have to be reminded to write — say that you should include a picture in your blog post. So, meet Greeny!

I wish I could say that I would just continue to write from now on, but hell, it’s taken me this long to get to this point, and to follow this post up with another post about writing just for the sake of writing would really be pushing it. I’m really going to need to come up with a new idea, something worth talking about.

But hey, once I get some material, all I have to do is reference this post. Then I’ll know what to do.

What’s the one thing that you keep talking about or planning for but never actually put into motion?

On February 12, 2012, my wife and I celebrated our third anniversary.

I’ll wait a second and let all of the Aww‘s pass before I move on.

Okay, I think we’re good.

What made this anniversary special was that we decided to spend the weekend in New Orleans. Though I grew up in North Louisiana, I’ve been to New Orleans only a handful of times, so my experience is very limited. Before our anniversary trip, I had last been in New Orleans in the summer of 2007, when I was an idiot college kid who was concerned only with getting some cheap drinks.

I’m happy to say that my 2012 experience was very different (and also better). This trip was more of a culinary adventure.

Of course, while we were there, we had to get some beignets. Actually, in the months leading up to our New Orleans anniversary trip, my wife told me on numerous occasions that we had to — just had to — go to Cafe Du Monde. Why? Because it is just the place for beignets, ain’t ya heard! She raved about it so much that Pouncer, her school’s mascot, insisted that he come along so that he could sample a taste.

The line to get into Cafe Du Monde was rather long; it must have something to do with “world famous” tag I’m always hearing people throw around. But we didn’t let that deter us as we braved the cold front and the accompanying wind that had swept into New Orleans that weekend.

When we were finally seated, we were led to a table that still had the previous party’s dirty dishes on it. After a few minutes, they were finally removed, and about 20 minutes after placing our order, we were presented our beignets and cafe au lait (I later found out that “cafe au lait” is a fancy way of saying “coffee with milk”, but when you say it so blandly, you don’t sound as cultured; no, you just sound boring and North Louisianan or even Texan). Once our food was delivered, we never saw our waiter again; this was also the first time I’d ever been asked to pay for my food immediately.

After we left, my wife said that she felt that Cafe Du Monde wasn’t all that great; she was obviously disappointed. Looking back, her declaration that Cafe Du Monde, despite the hype, was not all that and a bag of chips was a brave stance to take. After all, we just stood in line in the cold and the wind when we could have easily gone somewhere else, somewhere much more accessible. And we waited for a table that hadn’t even been cleaned yet and some of the worst service I’ve ever had (and to think, I tipped!). And when we were seated, it was among a mass of people (maybe over 100 others?) who had waited and had the same expectations as my wife.

It had to be a good experience, right?

Well, the next morning we found out that Cafe Beignet was a better experience. And it had better beignets. And in all fairness, probably better cafe au lait. Not bad for a tiny little cafe that most tourists likely pass as they get lost on their way to Cafe Du Monde.

Though I likely do it more than I realize, I at least like to think that I’m not much of a hype follower. Normally, if I have the option between that thing that everyone is fighting to get or that thing that is easier to acquire and will fulfill my needs just as well, I’ll usually go with the latter option.

That said, after eating at Cafe Du Monde, for maybe the third time in my life, I felt like one of the cool kids. I felt hip, I felt in the know. Why? Because I’ll never be that guy sitting on his couch watching a program about New Orleans on PBS or The Travel Channel, finding himself saying, “Oh man, I just have to go to Cafe Du Monde some day.” No, I’ll never say that.

Because I’ve already been. I’m in the club. I got the t-shirt.

I think that this is probably what I hoped to feel when I went out of my comfort zone and became one of the early adopters of the HTC Thunderbolt, the first 4G smartphone from Verizon! Unfortunately, that blew up in my face as those who waited got 4G phones with greater capabilities and they also did not have to endure one month of their phone randomly restarting as Verizon and HTC dragged their feet to fix the problem. But hey, that’s another story for another blog post.

In summary, I feel that Cafe Du Monde presently is not worth the hype. BUT they have to have done something right at some point, haven’t they? Surely this hype didn’t just create itself. Somehow the legend was born and Cafe Du Monde has found a way to perpetuate it and capitalize. They are certainly in an enviable position as they have found a way to stand out and obtain must see status in a city that has so much to offer.

By the way, I know what you’re thinking…

But Jake, this post started with talk about your anniversary. Where is the obligatory kissy picture?

Well, I gotcha covered.

There we are, kissing in front of the Mississippi River. Or as one drunk tourist kept calling it — Lake Pontchartrain. I thought about correcting the lady, but now I realize that maybe Lake Pontchartrain was her Cafe Du Monde. And there’s really no harm that can come from her never knowing that she was actually looking at the Mississippi River…unless she tells that story to friends who have better knowledge of New Orleans geography, I guess.

Today, while walking through a crosswalk, I saw a cellphone lying on the pavement. For a fraction of a second, I actually considered just leaving it there, but in the next fraction of a second, I figured that since the phone had somehow made it this long without being run over, it deserved to be returned to its rightful owner. After figuring out how to operate the damn thing and after calling eight or more people, I finally got in touch with the owner’s husband and had him meet me at the hotel so that I could pass the phone on.

The relieved man asked me if he owed me anything, and I quickly told him no. He thanked me and told me that he was happy that “an honest person” found it and that I didn’t use the phone to “call China or something”.

It felt good to do a simple good deed, but while I sat in the lobby of the hotel and waited for the man to come and pick up his wife’s phone, I couldn’t help thinking about a time that I had an opportunity to return something to its owner and failed to do the right thing.

My epic fail…

I remember only that I was a kid at the time, but my mom, someone else (in order to protect this person’s identity, he/she will be referred to as Other Person), and I were leaving Wal-Mart when I found a small plastic bag in a buggy in the parking lot. The bag contained a Looney Toons-themed watch with a receipt inside. Of course, my initial reaction was: “Aw snap! I done found my pay day, son!” My mom said that I should take the watch and the receipt to the customer service counter in case someone came back to the store looking for the watch. Other Person and my id said that I should return the watch and exchange it for cash. At the time, Other Person and my id seemed to have the better idea.

Looking back, and as you are reading this, it may sound strange that my mom didn’t force me to leave the watch at the customer service desk. She suggested that I do it, but she did not tell me what to do. She let me make my own decision. And ultimately, my own mistake.

So I returned the watch for that cold hard cash (likely $20, which is a lot when of money when you profited off someone’s honest mistake). A day or so later, my mom called that same store and asked if anyone else had called up there looking for the watch. Someone had, and she made sure to tell me. Not in a “See, I told you that someone would be looking for it!” way, but in a “I just thought you should know” way. She told me very casually. I don’t know if my mom had masterminded her approach, but nevertheless, she played the situation perfectly. She had planted the seed which led to my guilt.

Who knows the story behind that watch. Perhaps it was a gift. For some kid’s birthday. Or maybe some kid bought the watch with her own birthday money. Or hell, maybe an adult who was just a kid inside  bought the damn watch because he or she wanted it. And while $20 may have seemed like a lot to me at the time, maybe it was a lot more to the watch’s buyer or intended receiver.

I don’t intend to sound holier than thou, but in all honesty, I was a good kid, and there are few situations that stick in my mind and leave a bad taste in my mouth. There are few memories that cause regret.

But this is one of those moments.

And as much as that man appreciated my returning his wife’s phone, I get to be selfish in the fact that it made me feel good inside. I’m sure I’ll still continue regretting the watch situation, but at least I can follow it up with that one time I found the cellphone lying in the crosswalk outside of the courthouse in Grayson County, Texas.

And while I may not be a parent when this post is published, it is safe to say that I have been parented. Because of this story and other memories that float in my mind from time to time, I like to think that my mom had her own parenting style. She didn’t always tell me what to do; she let me make my own decisions and do my own thing more than I think many of my friends’ parents allowed them. Before anyone is eager to say that my mom may have had a “hands-off” approach, I’d like to point out that this lesson would never have been learned if I hadn’t been allowed to make my own mistake.

It may be liberating to say that we have no regrets, but if we take the time to reflect, no matter our paths, I’m sure that we all have regret somewhere. The point of regret is to learn. And I like to think that I learned from this regret.

And if it’s possible to learn from someone else’s regret, I hope that someone learns from this story. So let’s share the wisdom of life lessons: what regret did you learn a great lesson from?

I’ve been wanting to blog for a while. I know you can’t tell by the lack of activity on this site, but honestly, I have. It’s just that every writing idea centers around the deaths of my parents, and that’s a habit that I don’t want to start here. So I asked myself if I could take that and turn it into a bigger issue that more people could relate to. I told myself that the answer was Yes, but I guess that it’s not up to me to decide if I successfully pulled it off.

On numerous occasions during the last few months, I’ve had conversations with friends about the issue of oversharing on Facebook. Not oversharing in the sense of something that may make a teenage girl squeal and scream, “Ew! TMI!” (as would be the case with describing your dog’s bowel movements, just in case you couldn’t think of such a topic). But oversharing in the sense of sharing every little personal crisis that comes one’s way. I have thought about this issue for a while, but I’ve obviously thought about it more lately with things that have happened in my personal life.

If you’re having a hard time figuring out how this conversation ties back into the intro of my post, just remember that that’s why I haven’t blogged: the last thing I want to do is vent all of my emotions to my readers and followers and push them away because they’re afraid of how depressed my interactions will make them. After all, I usually try to keep my posts positive no matter what the subject; the last thing I want is to be labeled a Debbie Downer.

I guess that this might bring up the question of the purpose of social media. Sure, the purpose is to connect, but to what extent and for what? Where is the line, where is the boundary?

I personally believe that there are some things that are reserved for certain people. And if someone should know these things, he would know without Facebook, whether by a phone conversation or face-to-face interaction. While it may seem nice to have the support of as many people as possible, let’s be honest: not everyone cares. At least not to the extent that they need/want frequent updates. Shouldn’t personal things be a bit more…personal? When things get blasted to a mass audience, they kind of lose that.

For a variety of reasons, I feel that we as a whole are still adjusting to the Internet. After all, it is still relatively new and young, at least for the majority of us. As we move more and more to an Internet-driven world, there are going to be some bumps in the way. Perhaps this is just one minor bump that we all must figure out.

Lately my friends and I have been talking about how the Internet has revolutionized so much. When I find myself in the middle of these conversations, I always think about the first computer I ever had. Back in 1998, my mom bought our first desktop, a Compaq Presario. I don’t remember many of the specifications of that first computer, but I have to laugh when I remember that my cellphone has more storage and capability than it ever did.

Fast forward to 2011, and who really could have predicted the current state of the Internet so accurately? Higher bandwith speeds allow us to stream music and videos in the blink of an eye. The cloud allows for easy storage and playability on multiple devices. And information is everywhere: on blogs, on Twitter, on Facebook, on Google. No, really, it is everywhere.

It’s never been easier to connect with people. If someone will take that first step of putting himself online and allowing others to keep in touch, the whole world can be waiting to make contact. As cool as that may seem, lately I find myself wondering about the consequences that may come with such power and availability.

For example…

Kelly Clarkson recently tweeted her endorsement of Ron Paul, a move which angered some of her followers. While Clarkson is certainly entitled to her opinion and the right to share her opinion, I just keep thinking that we’re talking about a pop singer who’s talking about politics. While it doesn’t matter what’s fair or unfair, should there be any kind of backlash or reaction to this? Is there a need for her to explain herself?

And then there’s GoDaddy and SOPA. In response to GoDaddy’s support of SOPA, many people moved their websites from GoDaddy to other webhosts’ servers. Of course, GoDaddy, in an attempt to save face, now opposes SOPA. But I wonder, is anyone buying it? It’s obvious that GoDaddy changed their stance only because of the consequences that followed when they stood for something. Those who care have not forgotten, and it’s obvious that GoDaddy’s gesture is not sincere.

It’s kind of like when someone apologizes for getting caught, not for the wrong of his actions.

How serious should we take these reactions?

Oh yeah, speaking of GoDaddy, my hosting is up next month. Does anyone have any recommendations on where I should move my blog? Thanks in advance!

Where do we go from here…

There may be many times in life when we find ourselves asking this question or some variation of it. Though I believe that most advice is not universal because there always seems to be a situation that requires a different strategy, I have found that if you find yourself asking this question, the answer is usually Forward. Of course, forward may mean different things in different scenarios; it is up to the distressed person to figure that out for himself.

But Jake, you’re speaking very generally here. What the hell are you trying to say?

Okay, okay — you’re right. I’ll get to the point.

I’m typing this post two days after my mother’s death, which came about six weeks after my father’s death. If I were to tell you that 2011 has been a tough year for me personally, I think you will understand. And it isn’t even over yet.

My mother was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer around Easter time, and for seven months she put up one hell of a fight. I’ve never known anyone who endured what she went through; four months before she died, she actually stopped breathing for a few minutes and suffered brain damage because of it. At that point, we all felt that she would leave us at any moment, but she found the strength to hold on until just past Thanksgiving. As much as I miss her, I am glad that she is no longer suffering and has found peace.

My father, on the other hand, left the world in a faster and more shocking fashion. He had been diagnosed only three weeks before his death. Though I wish we all could have had more time with him, I am glad that he did not go through the things that my mother did.

I have no idea what lies ahead for me. That statement is very broad and I intend for it to be very broad. 2011 has been a year of introspection and reflection. There is no teacher like experience, and I have seen firsthand that we have no way of knowing what is ahead of us. We expect to bury our parents some day, but I never expected to do it while we were all so young — and I never expected to lose them both so close together.

And yet again I find myself being reminded of just how precious time is, especially when I think about my cousin Patrick. Unfortunately, Patrick and I were not as close as we were as kids, but at the time of his death earlier this year, he was only 27 years old. I am only 26 years old, and I have found myself asking What if I have only one year left? Or if I want to be more generous and compare myself to my mother, What if I have only 26 years left?

And then I think of my own health and future; as you can tell, cancer is not a stranger to my family, and I can’t help wondering if it’s waiting for me somewhere around the corner.

Okay, Jake, we get your point, but…what exactly is your point?

And so I ask again:

Where do we go from here…

We go forward, wherever that may lead us. I’ve already revealed a few fears to you, and while some people may think that those are reasons to sit around idle and afraid, I argue that they are actually reasons to make the most of today and whatever tomorrow we may have.

I guess I forgot to mention my good friend who lost his dad to prostate cancer a few months ago as well. He told me about his dad saying something along the lines of: “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I still had so much I wanted to do.”

My own mother told me that she wanted to visit Ontario again with my stepdad (they had planned to go this summer but never made it due to her diagnosis). And then she told me that there were many other places she wanted to see in her life. But she thought she had more time. Unfortunately, that is a misperception that many of us have.

My father always wanted to see Alaska. He and my stepmother had reservations for an Alaskan cruise but were also unable to make it.

Of course, you can never leave the past behind and I know that I will think of my parents often. I  hope that everyone who loved them keeps close in their hearts, but I also hope that everyone moves forward. Life is too short to do otherwise. If nothing else, we should move forward for those who are no longer able to do so.

I hate to be “that guy”. You know, the guy who tries to jump on a new trend or tries to go against the flow in an attempt to be original and/or edgy. So instead, I’m going to try to convince you that I’m not trying to be that guy…because, you know, that’s exactly what that guy would do.

First of all, I dropped the LaCaze Enterprises part of the blog and changed it back to jakelacaze.com. Why? Because let’s face it, as exciting as business can be (that is half-serious, half-sarcastic), it’s not all I want to talk about. Right now, all I can think of is that famous quote from Terrell Owens: “I love me some me”. And I do, because, hey, I’m a lovable guy, but I have so much more going on than business. And while everyone is rushing out for a niche, I feel restricted by a niche. Maybe one day I could have my own exciting startup (probably not happening) or maybe one day I could blog for a company with a specific purpose (probably not happening either), but at this moment, my only theme is me. Hence, jakelacaze.com.

Also, I deactivated my Facebook account. Will it last? Will I jump back on? Who knows. But I figure that there’s only one way to find out. I decided to deactivate my account after the last time I logged on and realized that I was pissed yet again by Facebook’s changes, which did not feel smart or efficient at all. Perhaps I would do the same thing if I were running Facebook, but I’m not and I have a different perspective in all of this. Too often, Facebook leaves me feeling like the Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer — frightened and confused.

I’m not saying that I’m getting off social media completely — just Facebook. And I’m not saying that I’m never blogging — just trying to be more honest.

Four years ago, I waited anxiously, dressed in my cap and gown, ready to shake Dr. Reneau’s hand and receive my degree. Four years ago, I said goodbye to one chapter of my life and hello to the next uncertain one that was peeking around the corner. Four years ago, I graduated from Louisiana Tech University.

Though I graduated only a short time ago, it’s hard to believe how much things have changed. Just before the end of my time on campus, Tech had just started putting up on-campus apartments. Now it seems as if the damn things are everywhere. Apparently, some new food choices have sprung up since I’ve left (where the hell were you during my days, McAlister’s?). I cannot remember if the nanotechnology building was there before I graduated, but if it was, it wasn’t there long. And now Tech wants to make a great big edition to the south end zone of the football stadium. And Tech is eagerly trying to improve its status among the country’s research universities.

With all that is going on, it is safe to say that Tech is on the move. And after revisiting the school for Homecoming, I feel as if the school is truly focused on its goal and is headed in the right direction.

It’s more than just words; Tech has adopted a brand to facilitate its missions.

In case you are not very familiar with Louisiana Tech University, it is located in Ruston, Louisiana, a town with a population a little over 20,000. Ruston isn’t a big party town, but when I was a student, I didn’t have to look too far to find a little trouble to get into. The campus is unbusy and has a secluded feel to it, and everywhere in town you go, you are reminded that the university is a huge part of the local community.

Louisiana Tech is not LSU, and Ruston is not Baton Rouge. And that’s where Tech has found its brand.

When my wife and I returned to Ruston for homecoming, I saw a slogan that I felt perfectly summed up what makes Tech so great: Your town. Your team. Your gameday.

The slogan reminded me of my own time at Tech, when I routinely saw the athletes on campus or in my classes. My largest class at Tech was made up of 150 students, so it’s pretty easy to spot people, especially the athletes that you see when you go to the sporting events. Ruston really does feel like your town, because as I said earlier, you are constantly reminded that Tech is a big part of the town. And with the athletes so easily accessible, you can’t help feeling a little closer to them, even though they may not be your best friends.

The slogan also reminded me of a conversation I had with a stranger in a courthouse in Pecos, Texas. The gentleman told me that his grandson once attended Tech but then transferred to LSU. When I asked how his grandson liked LSU, the gentleman replied without hesitation, “He’s a number, just like everyone else.” To me, that’s what your town and your team address: you’re not just a number, you’re a part of something; you’re a part of Tech.

With this brand also comes an image.

For some schools, this might not sound like a big deal. But for the longest time, Tech had an identify crisis with its bulldog. In the past, a bulldog on one piece of material may look like Georgia’s bulldog or Gonzaga’s bulldog, but now it seems that Tech has found its bulldog, a consistent and familiar image that is linked to one school, La Tech. La Tech’s “State T” emblem (see the La Tech image below) is already a great image, but now the school has the Bulldog to go along with the school’s image.

Speaking of “La Tech”, I first heard the term when I watched the Bulldogs take on the Miami Hurricanes at Independence Stadium in 2003. During the game one of the commentators referred to my future alma mater as La Tech, and I cringed as the words hit my ear. Fast forward to 2011, and much of Tech’s merchandise brands the school as “La Tech”.

When you think about it, “La Tech” makes sense. It’s short and quick to say, and it fits on merchandise more easily than “Louisiana Tech”. And I personally think that La Tech is better than “LTU”. I myself may still refer to my school as Louisiana Tech, but I get it.

A small school with resources.

I’m not sure if other schools the same size as Tech (with a student body close to 12,000) have as many famous alum and former students as Tech has. Some of these include names such as Terry Bradshaw, Karl Malone, Willie Roaf, Kix Brooks, and Trace Atkins. And that’s not even talking about the ladies who played on the Lady Techsters basketball team during the program’s years of glory, ladies such as Theresa Weatherspoon and Cheryl Ford.

Some of these former students can be seen on the jumbotron at football games, telling fans to get up and cheer. At homecoming, Roaf was seen taking pictures and signing autographs. A few years ago, Karl Malone donated a new floor for the basketball teams as the Thomas Assembly Center. Terry Bradshaw donated his Super Bowl memorabilia for the university to showcase. Sure, historic big-time programs such as Notre Dame, Michigan, and Ohio State have numerous alum who can pull together to support their universities, but to a school like La Tech, these people are much more precious and significant.

And what of the lesser-known masses?

On November 19, my wife, some friends, and I went to see the Bulldogs basketball team play the University of Texas at Arlington Mavericks. And on New Year’s Eve, we plan on going to see the ‘Dawgs take on the SMU Mustangs in Dallas. I hope that Tech will continue to play teams in areas that their alum relocate to and areas that their students come from (markets such as Dallas, Houston, all over Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi). Also, it would be great if the university would consistently play some of the local schools (such as Grambling and University of Louisiana at Monroe) in a variety of sports so that the fun rivalries that these student bodies create can be capitalized upon.

How ‘Bout Them Dawgs!

Anyone who graduates from a school he cares about hopes to see that school progress and improve itself. And I am proud to say that Tech is moving forward while still trying to retain a bit of its history and traditions. Since both my wife and I are graduates of Tech, I’m pretty sure that our future children can attend our alma mater for cheap (although the school won’t be as cheap by the time we’re ready for that).

But I do hope that someday, when we’re touring the campus with our future Bulldogs, we can both smile and say, “Tech wasn’t the same back in our day.”

The more I hear about the Penn State sex scandal, the more disturbed I become. To state the obvious, this is a very sticky situation, and it’s one that I hope that my alma mater, Louisiana Tech University, never finds itself in.

I want to go ahead and clarify that I understand that these events were horrible for the children and their families. And it’s so hard to believe that others (namely Joe Paterno) may have known what was going on while choosing to let it go away, forgotten. Joe Paterno had solidified himself as one of the greatest college football coaches of all-time and also a legend at Penn State, but now all of that will be overlooked, as his legacy will be remembered for what he didn’t do, as opposed to what he did do.

How can this football team go about recruiting from here on out? If you have a child who is an athlete thinking of playing out-of-state at some big time program, wouldn’t you at least want the illusion that someone is going to be looking out for him when he’s out of your sight? Wouldn’t you like to believe that his coaches and the other staff would try to lead him in the right direction? In this case, you have to wonder who all knew or had suspicions but did nothing. Will these people still be employed at Penn State? Would those people let something like that happen again? Could you be so sure?

And what of the university and its fans and alum? How can a school in this predicament ever ask its alum to retain pride and to donate and to attend games? Can the alum and fans ever wear their Nittany Lion gear proudly again?

When I was a freshman at Louisiana Tech, I had to sign an agreement that I would not cheat; if I was caught cheating, I could be expelled from the university.

This is way bigger than cheating on a test or project.

This is way bigger than college athletes accepting gifts from boosters.

This is in a completely different league.

As sad as this is to say, maybe we shouldn’t be so shocked that Joe Paterno said nothing. Far too often we make the mistake of idolizing people and inflating who they are as human beings.

Kobe Bryant and Tiger Woods were at the top of their sports. Were they great role models for how to be faithful to their wives? No.

And Michael Vick wasn’t exactly PETA’s poster child.

Maybe Joe Paterno isn’t the loveable old man that we thought he was. Maybe he’s just a coach concerned only with winning, someone who will do the bare minimum in order to cover his own ass.

Maybe I’m wrong.

But it’s something to think about.

As is this whole situation.

It’s been a crazy week in the sports and business worlds lately. In case you’ve been hiding under a rock (or if you’ve taken a break from social media), Steve Jobs died on October 5, 2011. And, as I’m typing this post, I am only a few hours past having heard of the passing of the legendary (and often hated) Raiders icon Al Davis. Both of these men had their own style and often rubbed their competitors the wrong way. But they cared not and have left the world with a legacy that will live on far past their years on this Earth.

In regard to Steve Jobs in particular, I saw numerous people who had a feeling of “Where do we go from here?” When you take a second to sit back and truly reflect on all that Steve Jobs was able to accomplish, his resume was pretty damn impressive. When he came back to Apple, he made the computer not just functional but cool and hip. With the iPod and iTunes, he helped to change the business model of the music industry. He turned a cell phone, a device which was intended for making calls, into a nearly all-purpose electronic device, a mini-computer in your pocket while you’re out and about. And of course, we can’t forget about the iPad.

I think that most football fans remember Al Davis’s latest years and mistakes while running the Raiders and forget about how he helped to shape the NFL as we know it today. Many speculate that he was greatly responsible for the AFL/NFL merger after, as commissioner of the AFL, he more or less called out the NFL and put a target on the league’s back. With his own style, he was able to create one of the historic powerhouses, and many forget that he was always willing to give minorities positions of great power in his organization. Under the Raiders, Tom Flores was the first Hispanic coach in the league, and he hired at least two other minorities as head coach: Art Shell and Hue Jackson. Also, Amy Trask, the team’s CEO, is currently the only female CEO in the league.

Both of these men had great influence, and their impacts will be felt for many, many years to come. And yes, it is hard to imagine a world without these two, as is the case with many other great minds of their industries and times.

But that’s no reason to fret. After all, the world keeps on turning.

This is part of our constant evolution. Great minds come and make their impact, and unfortunately, great minds leave. Of course, a gap is left, but gaps need to be filled and so an opportunity is created.

Who knows what the future holds, but surely something else is ahead.

At least these two will have some sense of immortality, even if they weren’t able to stay with us physically.