“How Now, Brown Cow?” is an old expression used to improve the elocution of one’s oral delivery. All those “ow” sounds round the mouth around the words and are thought to improve speech. “How Now, Brown Cow?” The saying is not an invitation by Jersey cows atop ladders on billboards to hurry for lunch at the local emporium of the chicken sandwich. Rather, the inquiry is a s l o w  a n d  s i m p l e question: “What’s up? — “What’s next?”

For this time of year, that is a very good question. We have entered the sports doldrums of summer. This is the time when we drift listless and dulled through the channels without energy searching for excitement on a glazed TV screen that does not seem to be moving.

The World Cup is finished. Germany has raised the golden trophy. For the first time, a European team has prevailed in the Americas. The soccer players board their vessels, wave and float off into the sunset, leaving us staring wide-eyed and wondering: “What next?”

Super Bowl is a distant memory and smile of American football at its best. Basketball is the fading recollection of NBA Playoffs before the times of free agency. The Boys of Summer are engaged in the Long Days of Baseball, but any end is far off and difficult to focus attention toward. The balls of tennis bounce and golf fly, but so easily across the net and into the sky that we fade to sleep in our armchairs. Track is a fleeting distraction. We stretch for the long jump, roll to the floor and drag ourselves up and toward to the pantry for a snack and a cold soda from the fridge.

Hot days dissolve to weeks, weekends totter and slip unnoticed by, months encounter long drives and flights of vacation too soon to disappear, be lost and never to return. We wait, open mouthed and heads drooping, for the cool of fall and college sports to revive our senses.

This is why Odysseus left town in search of adventure. It was likely after the Summer Olympics in ancient Greece. “What to do next?” There wasn’t even TV to attempt a distraction. So, the great-grandson of the Olympian God Hermes gathered a crew, hired a boat and sailed off to Troy for the Trojan War. That was quite the time, but as with all exciting sporting events, there comes the day when the action is over and it’s time to sail home — in its way, not unlike the question that plagues the doldrums of summer: “What Now, Brown Cow?” And, like so many trip planners before and after him, Odysseus wouldn’t ask for directions and got lost. Now, that was an Odyssey. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. Odysseus and his crew were right there, between the rock-headed sea monster Scylla on one side and the very difficult and demanding whirlpool Charybdis on the other. Well, they got through that strait, only to be shipwrecked again and again. Finally, Odysseus reaches home and convinces Penelope, his patiently waiting and wondering wife, that he really is himself. The story ends with Odysseus, on his knees, promising not to be bored again because there’s nothing to watch at the stadium and stating unequivocally that he will ask for directions next time.

The old stories have their way of putting things in perspective.

Sure, there may not be much happening right now.

There is little to entertain and distract.

Appreciate what you have.

A swing of golf.

A smash of tennis.

A sprint down the track.

Why risk a long sea journey and uncertain future?

Think of something to do.

Close to home.

Around the block.

With family and friends.

That won’t take twenty or more years.

And possibly land you between a rock and a hard place.

Having to answer all those questions before we return to our senses.

If you consider the options, there really is plenty to do.

And a special thank you to the Roman Ulysses.

May I be content no more to far roam.

And greet the Greek Odysseus.

Right here at our home.

Grandpa Jim