Writing for Sanity's Sake

I Had a Dream…back in 1968

Growing up in a small town of only about 2000 people, you pretty much get to know everyone. The population of the town I live in has hovered around that number for most of the 61 years I have been alive, and I have been associated with it. The people change of course, old people die and are replaced by new babies. The babies grow up and either work at the mill, or some of them break free and go off to college and end up in other parts of the world. But still the population is about the same.

I started off in grammar school in 1956, and there were about 50 of us in the first grade. We had three classes with about 17 or 18 each in the classes. We graduated 52 people in 1968. An ultra small Senior class for sure. And 1968 doesn’t seem all that long ago to me. It’s a relatively long time ago though. I was watching the golf tournament last week and Phil Michelson won. I thought, to myself that he is getting on up there in age to win a tournament. Then, when they said he was born in 1970, I did a double take. I had a daughter born in 1970.…so I am old enough to be Phil Michelson’s Dad…ouch.

Today, I feel really old. I have done a little painting the last couple of days and it has worn me out. I thought I felt pretty well this morning, so I went about my usual things…walking around trade day etc. I thought I was pretty energetic, but I was wrong. This evening I feel like I have been dragged behind a car for a couple of miles. I used to shake these kinds of things off a few years ago like a Water Spaniel shaking off some pond water. Now, I think I am like an OLD Spaniel. Ahh, but I know 61 is not too late to get back into decent physical shape, so I am REALLY trying, losing some weight and such.

But, in any case, I was thinking about my Senior class again. We usually try to meet a couple of times a year for a meal and to rehash old times. The only thing is, the last few times we have met, we have discussed members of our graduating class who have died in between our meetings. We were, and are a close knit class. Most all of us went all the way through those twelve years together, and it’s troubling when these people who you picture as youngsters start falling by the wayside. Heart attacks, cancer, car wrecks. This can’t be happening can it?

I once had a dream back in the 60’s that I would be the LAST member of my class to be left alive. Really, I did! I can’t remember too many details about it other then the vaguest memory that I was some kind of ancient decrepit man. And I was alone. That’s the thing I remember the most about the dream, was the being alone. Now I know, dream interpreters would say I was having a dream about the teenage feelings of isolation I was going through, but I don’t know about that. How many dreams do you remember from when you were a teenager?? That’s what I thought!! I am pulling for the rest of my Senior class to live long and happy lives, with many grandchildren. That way, if the dream was true, then I am going to get over this fatigue!

Speaking of changing things, what things about your life would you change, if you could go back and change something? If you had the power to change ONE thing that happened in the past to you or to someone else because of you, what would it be?

That would be the most powerful ability any of us were ever given, if by some magic we had it bestowed upon us. I can think of several. But, the thing about the ability to change that ONE thing would be the ramifications of changing it.

I know we ALL have heard about the ripple effect. Where you throw the tiny pebble out in the middle of the still waters of a little pond, and watch the ripples spread out from where the pebble has hit. They eventually go out to the very edge of the pond itself albeit by that time they are very negligible and barely visible. But, near where the pebble has hit, they are much stronger.

I have though about things that I could have done which would have changed my life. I am not going to name them though. The fact is that what I did is what I did and it caused pain sometimes and happiness sometimes. Sometimes just to me, and sometimes to others. I would be petrified with fear to change any of these things in the past, even if I could, because I might come back to future and find that I didn’t like what I had done.

The best thing for me to do then is to make sure I make better choices in the years I have left. I would advise everyone to try and do that. You know that we can make better choices. It’s all a matter of thinking about things logically, taking the time to sort them out and not jumping into them without a lot of careful thought. Now, I am not talking about deciding what to have for supper! I don’t think that will affect us that much, unless we decide to eat Peanut butter and Banana sandwiches with Mayo, or something. What I am talking about are the decisions that have that ripple effect. The ones that can cause other people or our self’s that pain or happiness I was just talking about.

I have to be very careful, because I often open my mouth and speak before my brain has a chance to process what I am going to say. I act hastily sometimes. I act impulsively and irrationally sometimes. Why do I do all of that? Why do any of us do that? I wish I had a dollar for every time I should have kept my mouth shut, don’t you?

Along with trying to get back in to physical condition, I think I am going to try my best to treat other people the way I would want to be treated. That’s how we should do it, regardless of what anyone else might tell you. Now…if I can JUST get a good night’s sleep tonight…..

1988 was a good year for me. I went to work in February of that year for a company in Calhoun, Georgia as Quality Control Supervisor for their Dalton, Ga. plant. I was thirty eight years old that year. My kids were still all living at home, and all in school here in Trion. There was a lot going on. Paula went to work at the same company a few months later, and for the next 10 years we commuted out and back from Trion to Calhoun to work. We went out to lunch with each other pretty much every day, and saw each other quite a bit during the course of the work day. It was a really good situation for us, and a really good time, in my life.

Because we were working out of town, there was a lot of pressure on our three children to take care of themselves until we got home in the evening. Kirsten being the oldest, was designated pretty much as the “range boss” There were epic battles, but they were survived. On weekends I always tried my best to do something with the boys. We went to a lot of baseball card shows, comic book shows, and hot wheels shows. Back then, that’s how you got collectible stuff. There was no internet yet, believe it or not.

We had a lot of spaghetti and meat sauce, salmon patties, and fish sticks during those days. We eventually graduated to some different types of meals, but those three things were staples of our existence.

We started out the year with Reagan as President and ended it up with Bush Sr. It wasn’t too contentious of an election as I remember…with one of the most memorable moments being when Sen. Loyd Bentsen of Texas, who was running as V.P. told Dan Quayle that he “knew John Kennedy, and you aren’t any John Kennedy” …and he wasn’t

There was a lot of stress which came along with my job, but looking back now with 20-20 hindsight it was a great year, and led to a great decade.

I could go on and on…but maybe another day. Suffice it to say, that my mind has drifted back just a bit today and I wanted to share. Hope everyone else can remember what they were doing in 1988! (if you were around and kicking)

This is pulled from a post I wrote on Facebook in 2015

Common people badly need a place, a niche in today’s America. We little people, which includes not only those who work for hourly wages, but also the retired, the disabled, and the veteran’s who fall in any of the aforementioned categories…we need a spot in America. Unfortunately it’s been being taken away for the last thirty years or so, and I see little movement on the part of our constipated government to ressurect it.

I’m not sure the “powers that be” realize that you cannot have a “body” without a middle. They may want to have an America with just a head and an ass, but without the guts and especially the heart, you have a country which will soon be DOA in a world full of sharks which have been circling us since World War II. They smell our blood in the water and they want a piece.

We haven’t had leadership in this country since the fifties or very early sixties who have had the welfare of our middle class, and so by default the welfare of our actual country at heart. They all have either been under the control of the billionaires, or trying to become billionaires themselves. I’m tired of hearing all the patriotic hogwash about some of them, and about the fake progressiveness of others. You know what I’m talking about. They all have sucked when it has come down to the brass tacks of making America work for Americans.

There are SO many balls in play in the court of mistakes made, or purposeful acts committed in order to hurt common Americans, that the Williams sisters couldn’t keep them in play. It’s time we realize, we little people, that they.. the rich and super rich, and the Wall street minions intend to enslave us. If you think I’m wrong or I’m kidding, just sit quietly somewhere for a while if you are over fifty, and think where you are now as opposed to where you used to be. Then think about how the media feeds you milktoast in the form of the Kardashians, Deflategate, the Oscars, House of Cards, HDTV, the Cooking channel, the Today show, Fox news, the Weather channel, ESPN, etc, etc, ad infinitum. Think of how they seek to divide you by keeping issues such as gay marriage, guns, religion, abortion, and wars always in the forefront while never mentioning how 1% of the population owns 99% of the wealth. As long as they have that power they don’t give a crap about anything else…period. Listen to Robert Reich, that inequality gap really is the issue.

I for one hate being manipulated and even sometimes falling for the manipulation.

America is lagging behind the rest of the world in so many important areas that it is shameful. Other countries take care and revere their elderly. We put them away, and allow the system to bleed them dry to the point of poverty before they die. We produce High School and College graduates who have NO practical knowledge about what it takes to really function.

So, I guess I’m just fed up with being fed up tonight. I’m touching on unpopular areas which people would rather not think about. Unfriend me if you can’t stand to hear it because I’m probably just getting started. Somebody, somewhere has to piss people off in order to get them to pay attention and perhaps…just maybe begin to participate in taking our country, the little people’s country, the hourly worker’s country, the disenfranchised veteran’s country, the honest teacher’s country, the former manufacturing worker’s country, the small three bedroom house owner’s country, the hunter and fisherman’s country, the small farmer’s country. Maybe if we work together and forget about some of this manure they are trying to use to divide us…maybe we middle class Americans can make a come back.

I swear I hope so…and my apologies in advance for rambling, preaching and blowing off steam.

More from a comment I replied to:

Are things going to get worse before they get better? Maybe so. It depends on how we define “worse” What we need is for another generation of activists like the ones we had in the sixties to come along. I know that people often misconstrue that period of time as only the “hippie” generation, but there were millions of people protesting an unjust war in Vietnam….a war which was not winnable, a war in which good men were sacrificed to whims of the military industrial complex and their supporters, such as Monsanto and Brown & Root. And then when these men came home, the government had NO support system for them. People were protesting for this men to be brought home, a huge number of Veterans themselves coming home from Vietnam ended up protesting the war…but the government would NOT support them and then in order to cover their inefficiencies the government came up with the propaganda both back then and now, as the speech in commemoration of the 59th anniversary of the beginning of the Vietnam war on Memorial day in 2012…to which President Obama alluded: “You were often blamed for a war you didn’t start, when you should have been commended for serving your country with valor,” he told veterans. “You came home and sometimes were denigrated, when you should have been celebrated. It was a national shame, a disgrace that should have never happened.” All of this dovetailed with previous administration’s attempt to mislead the American people. People who do not see that Obama has fooled them by campaigning to stop wars, but instead just continuing them, are not looking very closely. I am going to include a couple of good links to read which are enlightening about how history has been twisted about the last 50 years. Children who are exposed to incorrect history will only perpetuate the ignorance which leads to allowing themselves to be led by liars.

Now we need another generation of people…perhaps the generation of my two little grandchildren, who will protest the involvement in current wars which are also not winnable, and perhaps change the way of life in our country. It has to happen from the “ground roots” up. It has to be “raised” into our children to question everything which is not right. We have way too many people in this country now who do not question the way things are done. Too many follow blindly like sheep. We gotta’ stop being sheep to Wall Street’s wolves. JUST TODAY I saw a commercial from “Quicken Loans” talking about how they could not make home loans “without inspections” and “without all the paperwork” of conventional loans. Here we go again!! It’s only been since 2007 when our economy almost…really it did…collapse, and Wall street and the banks were bailed out with OUR tax money. Have we not learned anything!! Apparently not, since we send the same damn people to Washington who were there when the economy almost collapsed…or we send worse representations of the ones who have resigned, such as Georgia’s new Senator Perdue. We also are again being fooled into thinking that President Obama is reluctant to continue the current wars, or to embark on new ones, such as a war against ISIS. He’s not the reluctant warrior which he seems. The biggest enemies of the American people are not the ones in the horrific videos which they show you on T.V. Certainly these “terrorists” have the capability to do what they do best…which is to make people be appalled at what they do…and make people want to strike back at them, perhaps even go to war and kill them…but they represent a lesser threat to our freedom than the people in our own country who finance these wars, and who meet in fancy board rooms in New York city.

At the “National Prayer Breakfast” the president was introduced by the indubitable Paula White, first in line as one of the most prominent “prosperity” preachers …who’s simply all about the $$’s.

He spoke of how Mega Church Pastor Robert Jefffies spoke about him in 2015 saying that

“maybe God could use him, even though he’s never read the Bible”. Admittedly he never has or does.

He mentioned how Democrats hate Christianity, and had people arrested for going to church during Covid. “I know there’s some here today, but I don’t know why they’re here, because they sure didn’t vote for us”

Then, the president of this country then called Rep Thomas Massie a “moron”. Massey has been one of the most prominent voices calling for the release of the Epstein files.

He then said: “As everybody knows, my family, our great country and your president have been put through a terrible ordeal by some very dishonest and corrupt people,”

He added: “I don’t know how a person of faith can vote for a Democrat.

I really don’t. I know we have some here today. I don’t know why they’re here, because they certainly don’t give us their vote… they cheat.”

(The fact that he continues to over and over

and over drum this in, is because they eventually want to make America like Russia….where they have “elections” and people “vote” but where they know who’s going to win before the election even starts)

As for using the DOJ for political revenge he said: “But think of it many times, and then they say Donald Trump is using the Justice Department to get even. And I don’t — but wouldn’t I have a right to? Think of it, there’s never been in history a president treated like I got treated.”

He added of heaven: “I really think I probably

should make it. I mean, I’m not a perfect candidate, but I did a hell of a lot of good for perfect people.”

He said Churches should be exempt from taxes, but he’d take it away if they “talked bad” about him. ( he will say he was joking, that’s what he always does”

…..and so much more that seemed not only unchristian, but at times immoral…and always self serving.

Then nest the end He said: “IN CLOSING, SCRIPTURES ALWAYS TELL US

THAT’BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART. I DON’T KNOW IF THAT APPLIES TO ME NECESSARILY. I’M NOT SO SURE.” (I’m pretty sure) Paula….he said, “does that apply to me”

The few times this guy ever went to church… and I mean very few… he didn’t pay any attention at all. He’s obviously never read the Bible, because he doesn’t “read” The Bible would be way too complex.

The biggest problem to me when I was listening to it, was the applause he got…and the occasional “Amen”

Pete Hegseth was next up, and in his short speech he virtually compared American soldiers to Islamic fighters:

Hegseth claimed that soldiers fight for the U.S. because they believe in Jesus — even though there are many members of the armed forces who are Jewish, Muslim, or from other religions or no religion. And he suggested that someone who dies fighting for the U.S. gains salvation, making dying for a country a salvific act. Such rhetoric echoes comments that the head of the Russian Orthodox Church made about Russian soldiers fighting in Ukraine or that medieval popes told crusaders.

“The willingness to make sacrifices on behalf of one’s country is born in one thing: a deep and abiding belief in God’s love for us and his promise of eternal life,” said Hegseth, who has crusader tattoos. “The passage says, ‘For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s will save it.’ The warrior who is willing to lay down his life for his unit, his country, and his Creator, that warrior finds eternal life.”

“To preserve the soul of America, we must continue to wield not just the physical sword but the sword of truth. Unafraid and unabashed in this fight, we must remember every single day especially, especially in this town, that all power, honor, and all glory belongs to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Christ is king and may God bless our warriors, may God bless our great republic in these United States of America.”

Gee, isn’t that exactly what the Mullahs tell Muslim soldiers before they go into battle. Next thing you know Hegseth will be declaring Christian Jihads against other countries. My God, what corrupt, crooked and morally bankrupt are the “leaders” of this country.

This is a copy and paste of an article published by Salon. In this article Gregory Bovino, Kash Patel, and Scott Bessent all stated that citizens don’t have a right to carry firearms to protests. President Trump has also said the same thing. Can somebody tell me when the second Amendment changed? Following is the article in full. I copied and pasted it here in order to remove the photos from it.

Salon:

MINNEAPOLIS, UNITED STATES – JANUARY 21: US Customs and Border Patrol Commander Gregory Bovino stands in a gas station parking lot in Minneapolis, Minnesota on January 21, 2026 (Photo by Madison Thorn/Anadolu via Getty Images) 

In a heated interview with CNN‘s Dana Bash on Sunday, Border Patrol Commander Gregory Bovino said his agents were the real “victims” in the fatal shooting of a Minneapolis protestor.

Alex Pretti, a 37-year-old Veterans Affairs nurse, was killed by Border Patrol agents on Saturday. In videos of the deadly altercation between Pretti and several agents, he can be seen placing himself between an agent and several women that he was shoving. Pretti is sprayed with a chemical irritant and then wrestled to the ground, where one agent repeatedly hit him in the head with the irritant’s metal canister. Pretti, who was legally carrying a firearm, was fatally shot by agents while on the ground.

The Department of Homeland Security immediately painted Pretti as a threat, saying that officers feared for their lives because Pretti was legally carrying a firearm. Multiple videos of the shooting contradicted the official line that Pretti was threatening agents. On Sunday, Bash pressed Bovino for evidence “that he was intending to massacre law enforcement

When Bash repeatedly asserted Pretti’s right to carry his firearm, Bovino made the bold claim that Pretti forfeited his Second Amendment rights via his actions.

“We respect that Second Amendment right, but those rights don’t count when you riot and assault, delay, obstruct, and impede law enforcement officers — and most especially when you mean to do that beforehand,” he said.

Bovino went on to say that Pretti was merely the suspect and that his agents were the people who truly suffered.

“The victims are the Border Patrol agents,” he said.

That party line was echoed by Trump Cabinet members across the Sunday press shows. FBI Director Kash Patel told Fox News that protestors have no right to carry firearms.

“You cannot bring a firearm, loaded, with multiple magazines to any sort of protest that you want. It’s that simple. You don’t have that right to break the law and incite violence,” he said

Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent also erroneously stated that you can’t bring a gun to a protest. Bessent trampled over host Jonathan Karl’s assertion that all Americans have a right to bear arms during a stop by ABC’s “This Week.”

“I’ve been to a protest. Guess what? I didn’t bring a gun. I brought a billboard,” Bessent said

There might be a chance for rain and maybe a little thunder tomorrow…. Or it may move further East. That’s the kind of thing I really don’t mind as long as the weather is not severe. I kind of appreciate the reminder from nature of how powerful she can be.

I used to sit out on my Grandparents front porch in Blue Ridge in their old chain link swing hung from the rafters of the porch and listen to the thunder and feel the rain coming in over the railings. I’d get Grandma to let me have an old quilt, and I’d pull it up over my head and block out the rain, and just keep on swinging. It was comforting. Their entire place was comforting and soothing to me. I wandered hundreds of miles over the years up there, back through the woods behind their house, and up the trails of the mountain across the creek from their house. I’d stay gone for hours. Looking back now, I’m surprised they weren’t concerned. Back when I was young my grandmother could holler loud enough so that the sound would echo out and back, and round and round that little valley. I could hear her, and I’d “halooo “ back. They knew I wasn’t laying around dead somewhere thataway.

Winter was my favorite time to get out and stay gone and explore. The winter after we moved from Simmons street to Eighth Street I was twelve, and while we were making our annual Christmas visit to the old folks house, I decided to go to the top of “Johnny” mountain. I told my folks I’d be back, and I took off.

I crossed over the little log bridge, which spanned the fast running little creek that never ran out of water that led to my Grandpa’s Uncles land. There was a wide trail behind his house that led up the mountain. The first half hour was pretty easy going, and pretty clear. The men who lived around there had been deer hunting there for years. After that, the going was harder. It was much steeper, and very rocky. I came to one little clearing that looked out across the way towards my grandparents house, and I was surprised how far away it was. Seemed like one of those houses off in the distance in one of those Swiss landscape pictures. All of that, and as I looked up all I could see were steeper climbs with more and bigger rocks. I sat on a tree covered ledge, breathing hard and tried to decide what to do.

I started down the mountain, and by the time I popped out behind my great Uncle’s house, I was worn out, and felt like crying. I don’t really know why…or at least I didn’t then. Thinking back I believe it was a combination of things. Moving from a familiar neighborhood to a new home, turning twelve that October and feeling the first stirrings of no longer being a boy, feeling unsure of what lay ahead for me. Already trying to puzzle out my relationship to the world and the Universe around me. (Which I’m still trying to do)

I had a kind of “flashback” this past week as I went to pick my granddaughters up from school. A kind of feeling of nostalgia for not just the “old days” but for that one day in particular 57 years ago almost to the day. I wished I had gone on to the top of Johnny mountain. I wished I’d had the resolve and bravery to do it. Instead I took the safe route. I took the way back home. I went back the way I’d come because I knew what was there. I’ve been pretty much doing it my entire life now. Playing things kind of safe.

I wonder what was on the other side? I wonder now what’s on the other side of the mountain I’ve been climbing ever since then? Guess I stick around and keep thinking about it, but I’m pretty sure one day I’ll find out.

Warning…long post…

Our life is nothing but memory, as I have often said. Sometimes my mind is so closed, I cannot remember what I want to remember.
Last night I had one of the weirdest dreams ever…I was awake during part of it. Or at least I was semi awake. Every time I opened my eyes, I saw geometric patterns. Patterns from where I lay…almost out to eternity. There were wave patterns, there were geometric patterns of all kinds. It was so strange. I thought I was going blind, or something bad was wrong with my eyes. I finally got totally awake and put some eye drops into my eye. The patterns stopped. Was it the drops, or was it because I was totally awake. I really do not know. I told my wife today that I hope these strange dreams don’t herald some change in me. It’s a secret fear of mine…really not so secret.
In any case, while I can remember, I want to share some important memories. Before they fade away… For my family in particular…but for anyone who wishes to read them. It’s a pretty long post. You have been warned….

Circa 1972….

I drive our little Green Ford ‘Pinto’ station wagon down the old dirt “Snake Nation” Road towards my Grandma and Grandpa Stewart’s house. It’s an old two story clapboard house with wooden shingles on the roof. There are still a few bee hives sitting around the house. Grandpa has been a beekeeper and honey gatherer all his life. He is in his early 80’s, but still fairly fit. Grandma is in her 70’s, and can still walk further up and down the mountain roads than I can. She probably could walk 20 miles if she needed to. I am bringing my first child, their Great granddaughter, to spend the night. I see Grandma waiting out on the front porch. She always hears the cars coming, always.

We sit out on the front porch that evening in the roughhewn swing and rock out and back. The chains make sort of a musical “Squeak” in rhythm with the “Katy-dids” as they rub their legs together calling out to each other in the night. Grandma had fixed us dinner the first thing as soon as we got there. There is no turning her down when it comes to that. If you come to her house, you get a meal. I still smell the fried chicken sizzling on the stove and the fresh hand rolled biscuits cooking in the oven. Grandma made everything perfectly, and never, ever owned a measuring cup or spoon. She just would pour out whatever she was adding into her hand and put in in the pot. All of this takes place in the first hour after we get there. As I turn to Grandma to give her a hug….she fades away.

Circa 1970….

St. Mary’s Hospital, Athens Georgia. September 2, 1970. My first daughter is born. My wife has had a very difficult pregnancy, and this is the culmination. At 7:14 p.m., the Dr. comes out and tells me “It’s a Girl” I excitedly run to the pay phones down stairs and call my parents. My Mother in law is there with us. My father in law is in California, and she gives him a call. The pediatrician, a stoic looking Chinese born Dr., comes out and tells us that the baby is in perfect condition and will be brought out to the nursery in a few minutes. I pace nervously and have a cigarette. “I really need to quit this,” I think. It will be hard on the baby. About fifteen minutes later they bring her out to the nursery. What a beauty she is, with mounds and loads of dark black hair and eyes so dark, they are like the night sky when there are no stars. I put my face up next to the nursery window and puff on it. She is right under me, and I stand there and watch her blink, and stuff her tiny fist in her mouth. I think of all the things that we are going to do, she is the first granddaughter on both sides, and will be spoiled to death….I turn to talk to my Mother in law and she starts to fade away…. On September 4th, in the wee hours of the morning, my baby Karrie Lynn Bowers dies. They could never figure out what went wrong. I only wish that they had been as liberal back the about nursery policies as they are today….I never got to hold her, or touch her…and my heart still breaks.

Circa 1962

I had waited until my last year of eligibility to play little league ball. I was big for my age, and all the other kid’s teased me about my size. “Man, you gotta be at least 16” they would say. The opposing team parents would “naa-naa” too, but I had my birth certificate! I had started off hot in practices, losing all the coaches baseballs by knocking them over the fence into the river. I had some power during practices. But,. I had a case of nerves when it came to real games. I was in a slump, a really bad slump through the first three games I didn’t have a hit.
It was the ninth inning against the “Yankees” Old Russel Fox was pitching and we were behind 7-4. The bases were loaded, and I was up. I felt that tightening in my stomach that I always got…almost sick to the point of throwing up. I came up to bat and the ump called the first one: “Strike one” right down the middle. Russell grinned at me, and everyone jeered. The next pitch was too far in, and hit my HARD on the elbow. I wasn’t then and never have been one to show emotion, so I didn’t let anyone know how bad it hurt. But I was seeing RED. I was so pissed I could have killed him, because I knew he did it on purpose. He wound up for the next pitch, and threw his fast ball straight down the middle. I put it so far over the right field fence that it is still floating down the Chattooga River! As I trot around the bases with the world’s biggest and silliest grin on my face…the baseline fades away… I hit 4 more home runs that year after the ice was broken.

Circa 1958….

It’s Christmas day 1958. I had never seen a White Christmas. After all this IS Georgia and Mr. Heat Miser has sway down here! I went to bed that night with all the visions of a new baseball bat, and glove in my mind. Maybe some new comic books. It’s seven o’clock the next morning and Mom says: “Larry, wake up and come and look outside” I go look out our big old picture window at the black cherry tree in the front yard. It has snowed! It snowed on Christmas morning!! I can’t go out in it until we open our presents though, so I start to tear into them.
There’s some new “Scrooge McDuck” comics. Darn stingy old Scrooge is my favorite. There’s a box of tinker toys, and a wooden puzzle of the United States. But…that’s all. I am a little disappointed, and then from the dining room I hear a “hoot, HOOT” I go running in there, and there sit’s my Dad with a TRAIN going around the tracks. A real Lionel with smoke belching out the top! He already has the track together and is sitting there laughing as hard as I am, because he is enjoying it just as much as me! I sit down on the floor and play with the train for a while. Then I remember the snow. I want to make a snowman, and NOW! Mom wraps me up in my coat, puts on gloves, and as I start out the door…..the snow starts to fade away. There was a snowman built that day, but I didn’t name him Frosty….

The wind blew in from the northwest today, and it was terribly cold to me. I was standing out in the driveway smelling the odor of propane gas wafting through the air from somewhere. It was a strong odor, but I could never figure out from hence it came. I had a sense of foreboding that came over me, then lifted almost immediately. What was it I wondered?

The holiday season is rolling in quickly, and I have many reasons to be personally joyful. My family, my health, my situation. I love this time of year, though it finds me sometimes a little more stressful. I try and shake it off like my little dog shaking off rainwater. But, I still have that tiny bit of doubt, and the slightly frightening repetitive dreams I have had over the last few months of first being with my loved ones, but then becoming separated and unable to find them, or to get to them is unsettling. I wake up, and nothing is as it seems. My heart is racing, my brain is foggy.

Nothing is as it seems. The only reality that each of us knows is the reality that is created inside our brains, based on what we hear and see. Every day is a battle, especially in this day and age, to sift through all the trash, junk, propaganda, and lies to try and determine if we can find what appears in our mind, to be the truth. Perception is reality, so the war for our hearts and minds, and even our very souls is being heavily fought over every day.

I am grieved at the turn our technology has taken us as human beings. Separating us from our organic being as man, and having ourselves viewed as mechanical and robotic, or that which compares unfavorably with the robots. Even now in our society there is little humanity left for the patient and in the healing, little room for succor of the suffering. Perhaps mankind will find its reality once more when it is forced to reconnect with nature, as will eventually take place.

But, nothing is as it seems, and this is exactly why you should question everything you think and everything you believe. Everything which is perceived, is perceived through the subjective mind, and is therefore simply the opinion of the mind which created it. Perhaps my dreams are premonitions then, or simply just fears of death, the unknown, the future.

I realize that’s a little deep, but if you think about it, it makes sense. This is all my opinion. Yours will be different, either vastly different, or somewhat similar.

The main thing is to not to continue to let your mind be ruled by the false perceptions of some of the things I’ve named above.

Being Thankful in Chaotic Times

Do you think we have things to be thankful for during our current times? The Pandemic is decimating our country. Political divisions have made enemies of lifelong friends, and have torn families asunder. The affects on all of us are real, and have left many of us anxiety filled, angry, misunderstood, and searching for answers. My answer for myself tonight, at this time, and in this place, is to search my heart to see what is still there. Am I capable of love, compassion, forgiveness and contrition? I have been thankful….I am still.

I’m very thankful for my family…my wife, children, grandchildren. My Mom and Dad, my brother. (And all of my other loved ones who are connected to the ones I have just named. I could name them all, but they know who they are! ) I believe my one major goal in life, starting way back when I was a teenager, was to have a family and to do the very best I could to be a good Father. I could have chosen baseball, or golf, or music, or a career of some other sort to be my main life goal…but I had a different scenario in mind. I am thankful for being able to experience so many fulfilling things through my wonderful, supportive family.

I give thanks, or course, for all of the other things most everyone else does. Life and a chance to live it. Thankful for modern medicine, it saved my life. Hopeful that this same scientific community can save us from our current critical medical crisis. Thankful for the advances in technology, which allows me to communicate with you! Thankful for so, so many little things: running water, books, refrigeration, friends, classmates, prescriptions, underwear, automobiles, you name it, and I’m probably thankful for it.

I am thankful for music and the influence it has had on my life. I haven’t been a “commercial” success like I thought I wanted to be, but I have enjoyed the love of music just for the sake of its beauty and the satisfaction it gives me to “make” it and to listen to it. Thankful for guitars too!

I am thankful for growing up in the small town of Trion, Georgia. I am so thankful that I went to school with the people who were my classmates. That small group are like brothers and sisters to me. All of us went through so many things together. Butt whooping’s, schoolyard fights, proms, dances, football season, band, term papers, tests, Ms. Roberts, Mr. West, playing basketball in the old gym, eating at the “Y”, having plays in the old theatre, fishing in the river, sneaking out of class, loving each other, and hating each other (sometimes, but not for long) Although we have diverged in many cases on our personal philosophies, I hope that we can still love each other.

Living in a small town meant being able to walk from one side of it to the other without having to take food and water to survive. It meant spending the night at your best friend’s house so much that their parents threatened to claim you on their tax returns. It meant playing “pick up” baseball every day during the summer, and “choose up” football every day during the winter. It meant watching the river flood our beloved school to the point of uselessness. It meant the Skating rink, and the one theatre in the Country were all the places you had to go for “proper” entertainment. It meant knowing which guys had the most “bad ass” cars in town. I’m thankful I got to play baseball and then golf. I had two or three of the best coaches a boy could have in Dugan Peace, Jesse Emory, and J.W. Greenwood. J.W. taught me that it’s better to be lucky than good any day. Ha! It was good, and I am thankful for all of it.

I am thankful I got to go to college for five years, and although I didn’t finish, the knowledge I received has served me well. I went to both West Georgia College and the University of Georgia. I am thankful I met my future wife there, and very thankful she decided she wanted to spend time with me. (And still is, up to 51 years now!) I am not proud that I didn’t graduate. It’s been a thorn which I and nobody else, put in my side and has stayed there for almost 46 years now. But, I am thankful it still pricks me at times when I start something and I am tempted not to finish it. It has helped me finish a lot of things I would have not have, otherwise. It helped me to encourage all of my children to finish…which they all did pretty much on their own without much help from me at all!

I’m thankful I took Typing II in High School instead of Shop. I made a lot of money typing College papers for other people, and learned about as much from that as I did from my classes. It also helped tremendously my ability to edit for incorrect grammar and spelling. Makes it easy to write these epistles on Facebook too!

I am also thankful for some of the things which I have experienced in life, for which others may think to be a little odd. I experienced the death of my first child, and though it was heart wrenching, I am thankful for her, and the fact that she lived and she was ours…mine and Paula’s. She paved the way for our other children and a deeper appreciation of them for me, than I might have otherwise had. I looked at them many times and thought of her and was extremely thankful that I had three other chances to be a Father. (For as I have previously said…I think it’s my purpose in life) Her death prepared me at a very young age for the realities of life, that bad things happen and you must overcome them lest they overcome you. I am thankful that even after 50 years I can still sit here and have tears fill my eyes when I think of her. It proves to me I’m still human.

I am thankful I had some hard, manual labor jobs at the beginning of my working career. They made me determined to look for better ways to make a living. They (along with my wife) shook me out of a rut I was in and might have stayed in, and gave me impetus to go on to better things. I am thankful that I eventually found some very good people for whom I enjoyed working. I am thankful for the people I worked with, both good and bad. The good ones confirmed my philosophy that there ARE more good people than bad in this world, and the bad ones helped build my character to withstand and persevere against things which are wrong, and to have some ethics in life. I am thankful for the very hard and nerve wracking battles I had against unethical peers, who only cared for themselves and not others…who only cared for the numbers and the money, and not the people, and that most of the time I won…though not always, and sometimes at a heavy personal and financial cost. Those battles steeled me, and cemented my philosophy for the rest of my life, that it is better to want to help people, be tolerant and acceptant of those who are different than me, to have an open mind towards ideas which were different than mine.

I am thankful that I have had enough financial resources to live life at a “good” level, though never at a “super-secure” level. (I am not anywhere near rich…and never will be) It has taught me that envy is never a good quality. It has taught me that some of the things I coveted turned out to be unnecessary, and that the wealthiest people are not always the happiest. It has taught me that I should have paid better attention in “Economics 101” at West Georgia. It has taught me to be innovative in order to survive, and to try and help others who have even less. (And there are many, many of those out there, believe me…I feel blessed for what I have in comparison to a lot of people in this country and in this world, especially in our current turmoil)

Finally, I will end up by saying I am thankful that our Creator (and I do believe in one, although not in the same way as most of you) has allowed me to enjoy all these things and allows me to continue to be here and enjoy them. My fervent wish and hope is that we all come through our current national turmoil and medical emergency with the attitude that we must…we must start communicating on a personal level again. Enough with the outlandish conspiracy theories. Enough with the unwarranted hatred of each other, which we are being baited by from politicians, pundits and false prophets! Enough. It’s time to once again be thankful for our lives and for one another and time to force the demagogues and dividers out for good. Start with an open mind, follow up with logic, and believe that it can be done. Be thankful we still have a chance….albeit a slim one, to save our world.

I used to lay in bed when we lived on eighth street in Trion and listen for the freight trains to roll into the rail yard at the mill. We lived just up that steep hill from Riegel textile. Back then, I had a rocket arm and I could stand in my front yard and throw a rock almost to that railroad track.

I listened for the train because the movement of it as it came in and out with loads of cotton and coal, was comforting. Strange isn’t it, what we become used to? I could tell when the cars were being coupled and uncoupled, and whether the engineer was new or experienced by how loud the “clang” was when the cars hit together or pulled apart. A lot of times I would fall asleep dreaming of riding one of those trains out of town and right across America.

I dreamed of the things I would do: cross the Mississippi River, or maybe jump off at Memphis and get a job on a boat heading towards New Orleans. I’d take my guitar with me, and make some money singing in clubs. But then, maybe I’d ride those trains all the way to California, and go into acting….become a star. I loved music so maybe I should go to New York City and try out for Broadway. I knew all the old Broadway songs because I was able to afford those types of .33 rpm records at Redford’s five and dime. They were the cheapest ones. The new popular records were usually 3.99, while “My Fair Lady” and “Broadways Greatest Hits” were .99 cents. More music for the money, and besides, I could hear the hit songs on the radio.

I dreamed and schemed the world of a twelve year old boy, laying in my bed underneath that wide rollout window. The one I could crane my head back, and look up out of at the night sky and get a glimpse of the moon, and some stars, and the occasional plane flying overhead.

Those years on eighth street went by quickly. Looking back now, way too fast. From age twelve to seventeen I lay there and listened and dreamed.

I am reminded many mornings lately of those days because as I walk around the neighborhood in the early morning, the sound of the CSX going down the tracks parallel to highway 41, drifts up from downtown Ringgold. I can easily discern it off in the distance, and having walked the paths right next to where it runs, and having taken pictures of it, I know it’s the same type of train that I remember from my childhood.

My hope is, that somewhere downtown close to the tracks, there’s a twelve year old boy laying in his bed and listening as the train passes by, and dreaming of where it could take him. He may not get there. He may follow a totally different path from what he dreams, and be as happy as I am with where he ends up. But the dreaming will do him good, and give him some happy memories. And sometimes memories are worth more than gold.