Author: thegraymaniac

When I was in the 2nd grade we had this really great music teacher.  She was a hoot.  She was an older lady who wore her greying hair back in a neat bun, and always had a skirt and sweater on.  She would warm us up to sing for the “glee” club by doing musical scales, and by doing the “mi,mi,mi,” exercises.  It was great fun.  I think I enjoyed that year of school just about more than any I can remember.

The problem in the modern world is that the sound of music has turned into the sound of selfishness.

Way too many times over the past few years I have met people so shallow, I could just about see through ’em if there was a good light coming in from behind.  When they talk to you, you can tell there ain’t but one thing they are interested in, and that’s what you can do for them!  The almighty “ME”  Heck, Toby Keith even had a hit song making fun of those type of people with his “I Wanna’ Talk About ME!”  You know it:  “I wanna’ talk about me, wanna’ talk about I, wanna’ talk about #1, Oh my Me my!!”  Is that the kind of society we produced?  Now, it may be a generational thing, I don’t know.  I am not trying to be prejudiced here, but I do meet more people who are under 40 in this category than I do people who are over 40!  Not ALL!..don’t get your dandruff up young ‘uns.  NOT all of you are worthless Me, me’s!! Matter of fact, MOST of you aren’t!

I’d like to turn the ship around and head it in the other direction.  But, what do we do?  Is some of it my generations fault?  Probably.  Did some of us unintentionally demonstrate by example that the almight “ME” was the most important thing?  Maybe.  But what’s the solution?

One thing that I do every chance I get is to correct these people when I can.  Most of the time I just tell them, “Hey, how about thinking about something other than yourself, poophead?”  That usually gets their attention right off the bat, and then once they are focused, you can go further into the lesson.  Ask if they have a family at home.  Ask if they have a hobby.   Ask if they EVER think about anything but work.  I mean, c’mon how important is a rug to go into somebody’s bathroom going to be 100 years from now?  (Can you tell I work for a rug producing company??)  Maybe it’s going to be MORE important that you teach your children to preserve what little in the way of natural resources we haven’t squandered yet.  Or teach them to TALK TO other people when they have problems to solve, not just talk AT them.  There’s a world of difference there!

Some of them are too driven even for common sense or practical talk though.

If I have to, I resort to the ultimate option for the Me me’s.  I tell them that their Mom was right when they were little, and if they don’t stop with the MENTAL diddling around they are performing on themselves, they might just eventually go blind to the fact that there is a GOOD and lovely world out there with a LOT of worthwhile people, places and things that deserve the intellectual processes they are wasting on themselves, so that their progeny might one day still have a world to play in, and love in, and appreciate…. (God I love long sentences!)

Next time you meet a “me” person, tell them Toby Keith was just kidding…ok?

My wife got me a little “freestanding” Satellite radio for my birthday, and I tuned it in today as I was driving home to a Alternative Station…looking for songs by “Three Doors Down” (Hah) and heard Nirvana singing this song, and it made me long for the “good old” days of the 80’s.  Now, it’s pretty bad when the 80’s become the good old days, ain’t it!

My youngest son had/has (they have hung together even after 8 years out of High School) a group of about 6 guys that were all the “group” that hung around my house.  Ate my leftovers, drank my soft drinks, played D&D, and loud music.  I didn’t mind it at all.  As a matter of fact, I kinda liked it.  I got to where I liked the music too.  Those are some great kids, as kids go.  They never really got in to too much trouble, and never

I spend too much time in the past, I know that.  I try to stay in the here and now, but it’s just impossible for me.  The waves of nostalgia just wash over me like a relentless tide, and I am taken back time and time again, to pleasant memories.

I want to do something, and anyone can participate if they want.  I am the “hour wizard” and for a short time, I can grant you back five separate hours of your life to live over again.  Now is the hard part.  YOU must sit and think, and choose those hours.  Choose wisely, I won’t give you a second chance.  Here are mine, not necessarily in order of importance or opportunity:

1.  Hour one.  Simple one here.  The hour that I made love for the first time.  It was between 8 and 9 o’clock on June 14, 1969. The person who was there with me, is still with me…and always will be no matter what happens.

2.  Hour two.  The early 1970’s.  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 rough hewn swing and rock out and back.  The chains make sort of a musical “Squeak” in rhythym 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 Granda to give her a hug….she fades away.  My hour is gone.

3.  Hour three:  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 cigarrette.  “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 grandaugher on both sides, and will be spoiled to death….I turn to talk to my Mother in law and she starts to fade away….my hour is gone.  On September 4th, in the wee hours of the morning, my baby Kari 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.

Hour 4:  1962, early Summer.  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 leas 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..my hour is up.  I hit 10 more home runs that year after the ice was broken.

Hour 5:  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 has 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 the door…..the snow starts to fade away….my hour is up.

I am not going to put this on a bulletin board.  It’s really too personal I guess, but I would like to hear back from my friends.  What hours to you want back….remember choose wisely!

Peace and Love!

I remember the days when “going out to eat” for us meant taking the 59 Chevy with the big fins and driving down to the local A&W drive in. It used to be situated somewhere close to where the Credit Union now sits. There wasn’t any “Longhorns” or “Red Lobster” and…we couldn’t have gone there even if there had been. Mill wages were low in those days…the late 50’s and very early 60’s. Luxuries were few. I got 50 cents a week for doing my part of the chores. I washed and dried dishes and raked leaves. I did various other “as per” tasks too. If Daddy thought of anything else that needed doing which I was capable of doing, then “per” Daddy…I’d better do it if I wanted my two quarters. I wanted them badly. Those two quarters bought me some cokes, some candy bars and three comics. Comics started out at a dime when I first started reading them. When they went up to 12 cents sometime in the sixties, I was so mad I coulda’ bit nails in two. I asked for a raise in my allowance, and much to my surprise my Dad starting giving me three quarters a week! I figure my Dad must have known about inflation and such.

Anyway, we went to the A&W once every couple of weeks. I loved those slaw dogs and a frosty mug of root beer. If I was on death row right now and they asked me what I wanted for my final meal I would tell them if they could find an old fashioned A&W, I would take two foot long slaw dogs with mustard and a large mug of root beer in a frosted mug. I would.

The little waitress (not a server back then) would come out with her brown paper pad, and ask for our order. She jotted it down, and within minutes would be toting that big old window tray with the hooks on the side back to the car with all the goodies on it. Of course we all had a mug of root beer. What in the world good would it have been to go to A&W and order a coke to drink? Their tater tots were delicious too, and I often had them to go along with the hot dog. I believe that once or twice Dad bought one of the mugs from them. I think a lot of people liked them…and probably quite a few drove off with them. The A&W people knew though…and when they came back again they’d get charged for those mugs! They finally got smart at some point in the future and started selling those little “souvenir” small mugs.

All of this from watching a football game being played in subzero weather and seeing a guy actually drinking an ice covered beverage of some kind….

A very old man was taking a walk down a secluded beach in South Florida.  It was very early in the morning, and there was nobody else out yet.  So, the old man had the beach to himself.

It had been a very stormy night, but the sun was breaking bright and brilliant over the Eastern horizon on this following morning.  So, the old man was happy.  He was lost in his musings about the past, his past, and was humming quietly to himself as he ambled along scuffing his feet across the sand.  He thought back to all the dreams of his youth, and how they hadn’t quite worked out. Still, things had been pretty good.

He looked down towards the beach where the surf was coming in and in the breaking, foamy water spied a large dark looking box.   Curious, he shuffled down towards it, taking his small little old man steps.  It appeared to be some type of chest.  The wood was dark and worn smooth, apparently from being in the water so long.  Sort of like driftwood.  It had bright golden bands of some type of metal around it, and the lid of it was slightly cracked as if it was about to pop open.  Excited now, the old man pulled it in further away from the water.

“This is really something” he thought

Sitting down next to the little chest, which was about the size of a loaf of bread, he pulled as hard as he could on the top.  The little crack became larger and the lid popped open, making him fall back into the soft sand.  Peering inside, hoping to see gold or silver he instead saw what appeared to him to be a snow globe.  “Well, if that don’t beat all” he thought “It is close to Christmas though” he muttered.

He reached in and grabbed the little globe and realized suddenly that it was very heavy for its size.  “Dang” he swore.   He hefted it out and held it in both hands, and peered down at it.  A close examination revealed that what he at first thought was a snow globe actually now looked more like quartz, a smoky white type of stone of some kind set into a beautiful piece of wood like none he had ever seen before.

As he looked into the crystal, the smoky color begin to become clearer and clearer until it was like glass.  The weight of the ball now seemed so heavy he could no longer hold it, and it was becoming quite hot.  He sat it down into the sand and peered closely into it.  Suddenly the old man was jolted like he had been hit by lightning.  Images began to appear inside the crystal.  They were familiar places, but didn’t look exactly right to him.

“What the hell is this?” he asked to himself, suddenly becoming alarmed.

 

A voice inside his head answered, “It’s the future”  “I give the gift of sight into the future.”

It was a soft feminine voice, like the type one would ascribe to coming from an Angel.

“What are you” he said

“I am the future” the voice whispered “If you wish to see; you have only to say so.”

“Well sure.” The old man answered “I’m not gonna be around much longer anyhow I want to see what happens”

“Are you sure?”  The sweet voice echoed back.

“Yes, please show me.” He said

The inside of the crystal began to swim before the old man’s eyes, and images started to flow into the ball, scenes from which he could not turn away.  “Definitely not a snow globe.” He thought.  The images started flowing by, at first like a lazy little creek, but soon coming in a torrent like a raging river.  The old man could not turn away.

He wanted to run, but he couldn’t move.  He wanted to yell, and then to scream but he couldn’t even whisper.  “So this is really what is going to happen?”  He thought with horror and excitement mingled together all at once.  His mind could barely comprehend what he was witnessing.

“Yes” said the voice, which had changed to the hoarse croak of an ancient crone….

It took all of the old man’s strength to pick up the crystal ball and place it back into the little chest.  It seemed to burn him like the coldest ice and the hottest flame at the same time.  As he shoved it back into the chest and slammed the little lid shut, he felt a fluttering deep in his chest.

“Oh no.” he said

He gently sunk down into the sand, as his heart slowed to a stop and quit beating.  He didn’t feel any pain, just a sense of longing.

As the tide continued to come in, the water moved under the little chest like a finger and swirled under the sand until the chest started to move, and then float.  It floated out of the old man’s already cold fingers and washed back out into the ocean.

It rode back out onto the waves almost ready to ride on the ocean currents, until a small child, scarcely over the age of five ambled down towards the surf. The chest changed direction and started floating slowly towards the child.

Perhaps someone younger could bear to see the mysteries seething inside.  Perhaps not.

 

 

 

 

“When you’re weary, feeling small….when tears are in your eyes, I’ll dry them all.” “I’m on your side…”

It’s important to remember, who’s on your side. Because in this life you must choose a side.

Bridge Over Troubled Waters, by Simon and Garfunkel was the first song I heard on the radio back in 1970 as I was driving home from the hospital after my daughter died. It has both haunted and encouraged me for well over forty years now, most especially that one line: “when you need a friend, I’m sailing right behind,”

…. and I have these days when I have done nothing to be a friend, or very little, but in some odd coincidence I hear this song on the radio driving home from dropping off a very wonderful little baby, and I’m encouraged that tomorrow will be a good day.

Remember I’m on your side, and I’m sailing right behind.

Don’t underestimate the gift of the light with which we were created.

It can be bright enough to totally illuminate our lives, and the lives of others with whom we come in touch, if we allow it to shine.

It is the most powerful tool against the darkness which attempts to repress our happiness and balance.

It is the one thing which connects not only humanity, but all life.

We are all star dust, combined intricately with….

The light of love.

The first cup of coffee in the morning is a wonder. I may have one more during the day…but the aroma, the warmth, the taste of that first cup, is marvelous. Such a simple thing.

On days when the Grandbabies run in and down our long hallway, hollering “papa..nana” my heart soars with my love for them, for all my family. For my friends. Such a simple thing.

I love reading a good book, watching a good movie. I like cornbread, beans, and taters which I cook myself, better than 99% of restaurant food. I like clothes made out of cotton. Simple things.

I like looking at the bright stars on a dark, dark night. Sometimes I go to the local cemetery when there is a meteor shower, cause it’s the darkest place in town and the people there don’t ever ask for a thing but respect.

I love all kinds music, and when I’m not playing it I have my own radio “in my head” I can’t ever remember a time when there was no music. I cut my teeth on Patsy Cline and Hank Williams. Simple stuff

I love a walk in the spring and the fall around my tiny little town. The familiar houses, the streets..they are comforting. It’s home, even with it’s warts and scars I still love it…I love the smell of the cloth being finished at the cotton mill, and the grassy, oniony smell from the first spring cutting off the little league fields. The same ones I played on are still there, the old dam and the spillway still the same. I miss the old school, and how I used to go around the grammar school during the school year with a pocket full of change and hide it in the trees, and under rocks, and in the bushes where the little first through third graders would find it.

I love sunsets and sunrises and funny shaped clouds. All simple things, all mostly free things as the majority of good things are in life. I guess what I’m trying to say, is simply…I love life. I hope you do too.

I was just listening to Frank Sinatra the other night.  That man could really sing.

I never really listened to Sinatra a lot before September of 1968.  Before that time, I was an Elvis fan first.  I like some other rockers too.  Jerry Lee Lewis was another.  I liked a lot of the other crooners besides Sinatra earlier on in my life too.  Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, Perry Como and Andy Williams.  I sang “White Christmas” every year at school from 1964 through 1967.  I could do “Everybody Loves Somebody” and sound just like Dean Martin, I’ll guarantee it.  Paula and I went on our one and only cruise back in 2011, and I went to nightly Karaoke on the ship and sang that song.  The rest of the cruise, I had people coming up to me in the dining room and saying….”There’s ol’ Dino”  Yep, I do a pretty good imitation of him.

But Sinatra?  I could never imitate him very well.  I didn’t do it in High School because I had never listened to one of his albums before.  Oh, I had heard him on the radio of course.  “Strangers in the Night” was a hit song during 1966.  It hit number 1 on the pop charts that year.  His daughter also had a hit with “These Boots Were Made for Walking” in 1966.  It seems that that was a good year for the Sinatra family.  But, Sinatra’s album “Watertown” which came out in 1970, only sold 30,000 copies.  He just sort of retired from recording new stuff after that.  He got dissatisfied with the way his voice sounded and although he performed in Vegas, things were never the same.

I only discovered how much I loved his earlier music in that early fall of 1968.  That’s the month I started to college at West Georgia College in Carrollton.  West Georgia still had a real “small college” feel back in 1968, and I’m glad I went there.  Another reason I’m glad I went was because that’s where I met my future wife.  But…back to Sinatra.

My “assigned” roommate in Strozier hall at West Georgia College, who’s name was also Larry, was a real record collector.  He brought his record collection, and his record player to college with him.  I didn’t have squat besides the clothes in my closet, so I asked Larry if I could listen to his record player while he was gone to class. He told me it was ok, but “You might not like my taste in music” At first, I had to agree.

There were no rock and roll records in his collection.  No Elvis, no Beatles, no Rolling Stones.  There was Sinatra, Nancy Wilson and Deon Warwick.  There was about 6 Sinatra records, and his record player held five albums at a time, so I took Sinatra.  It was a good choice.

The albums were all from the fifties and early sixties…up to that 1966 album from which “Strangers in the Night” came.  There was Cole Porter songs like “I’ve Got You Under my Skin” and there were songs from movies like “Three Coins in the Fountain”  There were the greats: “Come Fly with Me”, “The Days of Wine and Roses”, “Fly Me to the Moon”, “The Lady is a Tramp”, “That’s Life”, and my favorite of all of his songs “It Was a Very Good Year”.  My next to favorite was the oft recorded Paul Anka song “My Way”  I think he is best remembered for that song, but I liked “very good year” the best.

It hit me the first time I heard it, and it still does the same to me after all of these years.  He had a great hit song in the seventies with “New York, New York,” too.  That was in 1979, and Sinatra is remembered best for that song, even though it came from a Liza Minelli movie.

All of those records that my roommate brought with him to college changed my tastes in music.  I went on to listen to just about every album he had brought.  I got to like Patti Page and Doris Day.  I listened to Rosemary Clooney and Eartha Kitt.  I took the measure of Billy Vaughn and Burt Bacharach.  If not for those albums, I’d have never have loved music as completely as I do, and would have missed a lot of good moments in the history of music.

Larry and I were roommates for that entire year, and after that year I married my permanent roommate!

I do still love Sinatra though, and I’m glad for Youtube so I can dial up the old hits from time to time.  I grew to even like Nancy Wilson too.  Larry said I would…..

I try to watch sunrises and sunsets as much as possible.  I frequently make photographs of them, as any of you who are my friends well know.  I love the days that I live on this big blue marble.   I certainly enjoy everyone of them, and will try and continue to do so.

But, I am fortunate.  So much more so than the vast majority of other human beings on the face of the earth.

All around us there is hunger, and homelessness.  Even in our fortunate country there is plenty of it out there.  If I could end it all with a snap of my fingers I would do it.  If I had the money to end it all…..would I do it?  Or, would I say: “I earned this money, and it’s mine” even if I didn’t need a fraction of it?

If I was living in luxury, would I have the same attitude as I do now, as a person who lives paycheck to paycheck, and always has?

It’s an interesting question to ask yourself.  If you could do magic, like the finger snapping thing, and end all poverty, hunger, sickness, homelessness and disease in the world it’d be easy to make that choice, wouldn’t it?  But, if we were billionaires with lots of real money, would we try and do the same things?

I think that the answer to that question is pretty much self evident.

I was thinking the other day about the New Year, and wrote a little piece about it. I started trying to recall the first New Year’s celebration that is logged away somewhere on the hard drive of my brain. I can’t really remember a specific one. Isn’t that strange?

I remember early Christmases. Oh how well I remember that Red Wagon that Santa brought me back in 1954 when I was only 4 years old. We lived in a little old Mill house up on Sixth Street in the proverbial “Mill” town of Trion, Georgia. It was the last Christmas in that house before we moved to a new house that my Dad was having built in another part of town. I guess things were not too bad that year. If we could afford that wagon, and the set of Hopalong Cassidy guns and the outfit that I also got AND move later on to a new house then things were going pretty good. We lived in that new house for eight years until Dad could no longer afford the payments, and we had to move out, back to “Hot Town” just two streets over from where we were celebrating in 1954.

There were a lot of good Christmas memories at the “new” house. My brother was born while we were there. There were “cut down” cedar trees every year in front of the big “picture” window that my Mom was so fond of. There was the year of the Lionel train; there was a year in which I got a telescope to view the Universe and its vastness. I never appreciated the years there as I should have. There was the one wonderful Christmas back in 1962 I believe it was, when it snowed. One of the VERY few times that “heat miser” let it snow in Southland! How beautiful it was to come out and look through that big window that morning and see the snow falling in huge feathery flakes, and the snow already piled up high in wind drifts against the trees. Santa that was the year you were supposed to bring a sled, but we had to make do with cardboard boxes cut up into home made flexible flyers! And oh we did. We slid down the hill at the cemetery across the road from my house until the dead people there must have thought Jesus was coming back, what with all the commotion. I don’t even have a clue what I got that year for Christmas. I got a WHITE Christmas. That was enough. That was sufficient in itself to provide memories to last the rest of my life. Surely any toy would never have been impressive enough to do the same.

Oh yes, Christmas memories are not hard to come by. But New Years? That’s another thing altogether. My folks never made such a big deal about it. Some of the time we were at my Grandparent’s house and went to bed with the chickens even on New Year’s Eve. Even when we were at our own house, I can’t remember any New Year’s parties, or any celebrations that were held in anticipation of a New Year. It just came. The years just stacked up, and you greeted them with the same anticipation that you did any other day.

After my wife and I married in 1969, we started marking the New Year.
I think that every year now since we have been married, my wife and I have done something to mark the New Year. We let the kids sit up and watch Dick Clark blather on, and watch the big ball drop at Time’s Square and the “Peach” drop in Atlanta. I can’t remember if there were any years that we were not together, or not many really that the whole family hasn’t been around. Just the last few years, I think we have gone our separate ways to some extent. Most of the time now, we go to my daughter’s house and play board games and then do the count down. Backwards from ten to zero and ZOOM, in comes another year.

It’s all pretty humbling when you step back and think about it though. This year we are marking as 2014 A.D. (At least those of us who use the Julian calendar. The Chinese and the Muslims both have a different “New Year” then we do. This year the Chinese New Year starting on January 14 and will be the year of the Horse, very appropriate. The Muslims use the Hijah Calendar which was created by Mohammed) Most people make the mistake of thinking that A.D. stands for “After Death” when it’s Anno Domini or “In the Year of our Lord” It was “invented” if you will in/about the year 525 by Dionysius Exiguus to figure out when Easter was. But, I digress. Think of 2000 and 14 of those babies! Just think of all the monumental things that have happened in those 2014 years. Break out your history books sometime and thumb through them. There are some Earth Shaking years wrapped up in there. Some years that changed human history forever. Some of them are ones that are a no brainer. 1945, the year that the first Atomic bomb was used. That one changed the world forever didn’t it? There are some that are more obscure, but nonetheless just as important. How about when Martin Luther posted his 95 Thesis on the door of Wittenberg Church on October 31, 1517? Although Luther didn’t know it at the time, that year broke the hold of the Catholic Church on Christianity. Just think how much that change our world.

How about September 11, 2001 as a recent year that changed history? It definitely has, and will continue to, as we move through all of the ramifications and repercussions of moving through this Brave New World we are now entering into.

Think about all the new technology that has developed since World War II. For some reason, that particular War more than any other has seemed to be a catalyst for the development of Science in leaps and bounds. It’s amazing what has taken place, but it’s scary at the same time. I just heard a man talking on the Radio not more than a week ago saying how one day soon all humans would have special chips inserted into their hands so that they would not have to have cards, or even any other forms of identification in order to buy things, or go places. No more credit cards, or passports just that little non-removable chip to tell the world who you are. I am glad I am about past the point where I might be around when they institute THAT little bit of Science one of these New Years. I am afraid that they would just have to skip me on that one.

I have also heard where more and more people are now using biotechnology which identifies human embryos outside of the human body for things such as disease, genetic malformations, and most prevalently for the sex of the baby. Pretty soon it’s going to get down to the parents being able to say: “I want a boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, who has an I.Q. of at least 150, and we are going to want him to be a pianist” The new Eugenics, and yes it will probably get to that point one day if whoever decides on this type of thing (and who will that be?) decides to let it get that far. If it’s our Federal Government, then God help us, it will certainly be a mess. It could already be in use as far as we know in some countries out there. Think about it. There are a lot of countries who don’t even have the constraints of Ethics which we have in the U.S. (And that’s saying something right there, buddy!)

Now there is also word of a new Computer program being developed which can store everything which is on a human beings brain on the hard drive of the computer. It can’t store the emotion, or the spirit of the person. Just what they knew or know. Think about the uses for that, when a program can be bought which you can store Grandma or Grandpa’s knowledge on. Maybe they will fix it up where you can put a 3-D likeness of the person on there, and actually program it where it can seem like you are communicating with them. “Hey Grandma, do you remember back when I was 13, and fell down your steps and broke my arm?” “Of course I do Honey” it answers back. “That was really a bad day”

Scary.

They say what the mind of man can conceive can be turned into reality. And to think I have been reading Stephen King for years. Oh boy.

That’s all pessimism though, and maybe things will actually turn out for the good in some of the upcoming New Years. They are coming up with treatments and cures for more diseases every day, and doing things to relieve the suffering of humanity. Yes, believe it or not there ARE still some humans out there who work on things to benefit others without the thoughts of greed or manipulation guiding them. (Not enough of them though!)

I heard where there are Cancer treatments being developed through genetic research, where people’s own cells (I believe stem cells if I am not mistaken) can be used to attach a killer “trigger” to, which only affects cancer cells, so that when the cells are introduced into the body they kill ONLY the Cancer and leave everything else healthy. What a good year it will be when they can use that one.

That type of genetic research, where genes are modified to take care of human problems and suffering can be a good outcome. What if they could eliminate suffering of all kinds? Some people would think that a world without suffering would be wonderful. But I wonder. I wonder if ALL suffering should be eliminated. Seems like that would take away a little bit of what it means to be human, but that’s just my opinion.

Then there are those that will tell you that all of this must be leading up to the “end of time” Yes, that’s right, the end of all the “New Years.” In Christian beliefs Christ himself is going to return again in one of these New Years for those who are his children. According to many Christians, the signs are out there for all to see. The diverse Earthquakes and disasters (remember the tsunami several years ago on the day after Christmas?) the continuing problems in the Middle East, especially between Jews and Arabs. The widespread and very dangerous spread of new antibiotic resistant disease. The famine which affects more of the world every day. The lack of Love in people for other people. Matthew chapter 24 chronicles what Jesus had to say about it. Read it and decide for yourself. A lot of people already have.

I am not sure of everything that is happening, I will tell you that for certain. At my age, a lot of the new technology is fascinating, but it’s like a double edged sword. My religious indoctrination says the signs are out there, but the scientist in me is in conflict with the theologian. The reader of the written word in me, the seeker of knowledge, wants to keep abreast of everything that’s going on in the world, but sometimes over analyzes or doesn’t understand the significance of what is being input and processed by my teeny brain. The realist in me knows that things can’t stay the same, but the dreamer wants things to stay like they are, or go back to the way they were!

Remembering New Years? Do you see know why it’s hard to do. When you get stuff like this in your head, then it sometimes just starts to run together like syrup across pancakes.

I am glad it’s almost 2014, and I am super glad I have made it this far and if nothing happens I will be watching the ball drop in times square at midnight December 31, and I will be hoping that this year may just be THE year when everything starts to come together for the good of everyone in the world. Happy New Year to everyone in The Year of Our Lord 2014.