Author: thegraymaniac

A busy day, the end of a busy week. We have been with all the “little” Grandbabies at different times this week. They are tiny tornadoes…but they are our babies. Eli, Rue, and Evie. I couldn’t love them more.

They remind me that once upon a time, my other grandchildren were also babies, but are growing up and out of our “sphere of influence” My first Jessica Brown is a beautiful young woman now, in faraway Huntsville most of the time, working hard on her new job. Auttie Bowers my Blondie, is a junior. Going to the prom tomorrow (praying for no storms) Tyler Holland is married and working hard on the road. I passed my 16 year old Chelsea Holland out playing tennis this afternoon with Max, and had to stop my walk and try to show off. Then there is my little teeny bopper Olivia Livy Brown who is getting prettier every day. I know I’m an embarrassment to them, but just can’t help it.

I raised my three children the best I could. There were hard times, financially and emotionally. I commuted to work out of town all my working years, and had less time for my kids than I wanted with them. I bet I have put in at least a million miles between 1978 and 2011…my “driving” years. I got to know Ludlow Porch, NPR, and Neal Boortz really well over the radio airwaves. I listened to more country music than a Nashville producer.

My wife was with the kids more when they were little. I know that her presence helped them tremendously. Their Grandparents were a big part of their life, especially my “larger than life” Daddy.

My kids are my friends now, although I am never beyond still giving “parental” advice and serving as a gravel hauler, furniture mover, fashion supplier, taxi service and much more…all very willingly albeit grumpily sometimes. There is nothing I wouldn’t do…well almost nothing, for them. They know it. My family has always come first.

Brings me back to the babies. The grandchildren of our “old” age. They will never remember Paula and I as anything other than the gray headed grandparents. Evie especially, and hopefully a brother or sister for her in a few years. Perhaps they will remember some wisps and whispers of our caring for them. And oh..how I do care for them….all of them, child and grandchild.

Many, many years ago I decided I would probably never have a profession as such, other than being Dad and Papa. I think it was the right choice.

Lately, “for no particular reason” as Forrest Gump would say, I have been uncharacteristically sad. I wish I knew why.

Things have been going ok, have been going relatively well actually.

I was cleaning out some things at my rented storage building today and found an old photo album which had been misplaced. It had photos of my grandparents and my folks, my Aunts and Uncles…many long dead now. One of the pictures was of Mom and Dad, and Uncle Pinky and Aunt Sis sitting at a card table playing Rook….had to be about 1974.

They used to get together quite often when we lived on 8th street, since they lived right next door. We boys and girls who lived on 8th street also would get together almost every day and play. God, there were a bunch of us there in the 60’s.

Lemme see: Me and Mike. Rickey Bowers, Mike and Lynn Brown, David Hayes and his three sisters, Debo Spears, Barbecue Ingle, Stanley Crawford, Russell Fox, Hiram Sizemore, Alan Butler (sometimes at his grandparents) the Butler girls…three of them, sisters. There was Kenneth Treadaway, (Coway drive…as was Debo) and sometimes Ken Stephens would wander over from 7th street. Did I forget anybody? Probably.

It was precisely this time of the year, every year, that we were getting geared up for summer. Baseball and swimming. Fishing, golf, and nightly games of “freedom”. Around the clock monopoly marathons at Hiram’s house. Guitar playing. Spending the night at somewhere else besides home.

Waiting for the the rolling store and the ice cream truck. Reading comic books all day long. Our lives back then was a combination of “Leave it to Beaver” and “The Wonder Years”.

We, the white middle class kids of America growing up in the fifties and sixties, had mostly wonderful lives. Sure, there were problems. But we tend to forget those. We tend to dwell on the good for the most part. It’s just how humans think. Why else would a woman ever have more than one child?

So I suppose my recent wave of sadness is simply nostalgia biting me in the butt. It’s missing the people who are gone, and the times we had.

But…I’m still looking forward to tomorrow…and this week. My little grandchildren, my big ones, my kids. All of my family. We make new memories now for a new generation of our humanity to one day be nostalgic about. It’s the way of life.

And that’s how it should be, although it’d be good to play a game of Rook…or even “Magic” again…while there’s still some time.

Last week before Easter Sunday, that I would polish my black shoes before going to church today. They were scuffed up something bad. You see, I’m not much of a shoe polisher anymore. There probably hasn’t been a bottle of black shoe polish in this house for YEARS!

I brought my shoes out to my chair, and opened up the bottle and put them on the nice little blue rug that sits in front of my chair. I took the top off of the polish, and opened it up. Suddenly, somewhere in the back of my head I heard a voice say:

“You better put down a piece of newspaper on that floor before you do that!” It was the voice of my Dad…coming out of so long ago. You see, my Dad believed in putting that newspaper down on the floor as you didn’t DARE get a drop of shoe polish on my Mom’s clean floor. He also believed in polishing your shoes EVERY week, especially since we generally had only one pair of shoes at a time for both school and weekends. Scuff ’em up during the week, and polish ’em up on Sunday morning before Church. Every Sunday morning, for so, so many years. After I grew up, I grew out of the habit.

I thought about getting up and grabbing a piece of last weeks Summerville News, an appropriate usage for that periodical after a first read. Nah…I said, I’ll be careful. I got through the fist shoe just fine…looking good. As I started on the second shoe the little foam top wasn’t putting out as much polish as I though it should so I pushed down on it. Mistake!! It slooshed out and about half off it ran off the shoe onto the rug. I finished polishing the shoe and went and got a rag and some Windex and did the best I could to get it up. Left a little black stain despite the best I could do.

I thought about getting some carpet cleaner, but I’m just gonna leave the spot there. Every time I look at it I might just remember to do what Daddy tells me the next time. You might be able to ignore your “raisings” but you never forget ’em.

I mentally wished a Happy Easter to my Dad and Mom….I will seeya’ again someday, somehow, and thanks for all the advice you gave me for those 60 years we were together in this life!!

Days

Every morning when I wake up, the first thing I do is to be thankful for one more day. Then, most of the time during the day I find myself being thankful for simple moments. They are the type of moments that each of us should have, and should treasure.

The kissing of the baby’s neck. The hug from the little kids. The taste of something decent to eat, the smell of coffee, the song which touches your heart, and brings a tear to your eye. The glance from a familiar eye which says “I love you”.

Those are real moments, and when it all is considered, those moments are all we have. The past is gone, with every breath we take, it is fleeing swiftly by us. The future is simply conjecture. We plan on doing things which will happen “in the future” but it’s not certain.

A lot of times during the day, especially now, at my age, I find myself questioning life. Uncertain life, and if I travel outside my little venue, either physically or via this computer or any other electronic means, I become aware of things which I cannot understand.

I can’t understand the hate which has resurfaced in our country. I cannot remember a time in my life, except for perhaps in the 50’s or early 60’s when hatred was so wide spread and naked for all to see. I never thought to ever see a time when a swastika was burned openly in order for people of one race to intimidate people of other races or creeds. There is no love in that act, only hatred. There is nothing to be gained by that act, only loss. There are only lost moments in doing something of that nature. There are only lost chances at being able to live together in harmony at those moments. There is nothing Godly happening there. There is nothing divine happening there. There is absolutely no love being exhibited there. There is no sense in it. There is not use in it. There is nothing to be gained by it, other than one moment of the searing satisfaction that an orgasm of hatred can bring. It is ugly, and is the antithesis of everything that anyone who claims a religion of any kind can muster.

We human beings have so very little time on this planet, and hatred is a total waste of that time.

When and if I wake up in the morning, I will again be thankful for the day…..for the moments which fill that day. I’m going to continue to love. I do not, and cannot believe however, that by staying silent anymore about the bad things which are going on, I am doing what is right. I will fight hate, although I will do it in my own way, and I hope and pray that everyone else who hopes for a better world for our children and our grandchildren will do the same. Forcefully, but peacefully… perhaps we can prevail and a better world will be the result.

I realize now that there will never be enough time in my life to do all the things I had planned on doing when I was young. I hate to use the phrase “bucket list”, but I am going to have reevaluate thing somewhat. Which things have true importance? What is a lasting legacy to leave my loved ones? What is it that I really NEED to do versus what I WANT to do? I had a lot of big “plans” when I was a kid. I wanted to be a writer, a pro golfer, a baseball player. I think most of all I wanted to be a Father.

For some reason that was a goal which seemed of paramount importance to me. Since moving last weekend and going through mounds of “stuff” downsizing is an absolute must!

I don’t have enough time left in my life to deal with everything I have “collected” over the years, and I don’t want my children and grandchildren to have to deal with my mess when I am gone. I tell you, nothing changes your attitude like a close brush with death. Guess what I’m trying to say is I still got a lot to do, so there is still a LOT to live for. I once read a “Calvin and Hobbes” cartoon where Calvin was saying that with all the things he had to do, he would live “forever” Being mortal, I know I can’t do that, but I do have a LOT to live for so I am going for at least 100! Ya’ll have a good day!

Common Sense: Not looking both ways before crossing the road. Not touching a stove eye which is red. Don’t sign anything without reading it first. Don’t eat undercooked pork, or a raw ghost pepper.

Don’t encourage ignorance. Don’t put up with rudeness. Don’t forget to say please, thank you, and excuse me. Don’t be bigoted.

Don’t be sexist. Don’t forget to brush your teeth before you go to the dentist. Don’t forget to vote. Always wear clean underwear. Don’t shoot a motorcycle gang a bird.

Don’t forget to learn as much as you can about everything you can. Don’t argue unless you know you are right. Don’t be stubborn about changing your mind when you’re wrong. Don’t contradict yourself.

Always fasten your seatbelt. Don’t fly unless it’s in a plane. Don’t criticize anyone’s personal beliefs.

Thomas Paine once wrote a book by the same name. Read it, it’s an important part of history. Benjamin Franklin wrote a bunch of good common sense sayings in Poor Richard’s Almanac. Another important book.

Apple Cider vinegar and local honey are good for what ails you. Wear an orange vest in the woods during deer season.

Love your neighbor, and that doesn’t just apply to the people you live near. Have compassion and pity for those with less than you. Try to understand where even the angry people are coming from.

Hug somebody. Get enough sleep……

Life is like a balance scale. You must balance out the things you want with the things you really need. You may never have all you think you need, but then…did you truly need it after all?

As a child and a young man I would often dream of what I could become. What I have become is much different. I would not have imagined this. Nobody dreams of growing up to become “ordinary”. But ordinary is not bad, it is simply what has been weighed out in the balance, through choice and through chance.

After all, free will is what has been given to we humans as our heritage from the trials and errors of our ancestors, and through natural selection, or from God if you will.

We should not fail to exercise it, but we should realize at the same time the moral limitations it puts upon us. We should weigh in the balance that which makes us happy and productive against the idealism of that which we think would make us more satisfied.

Sometimes they are one and the same, but most of the time they are not, and those are the times which cause us to get out of balance, and to hurt ourselves and others whom we love.

As one of my favorite fantasy writers Brandon Sanderson said in his book The Hero of Ages:

“Somehow, we’ll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be. But for now, we simply have to be satisfied with who we are.”

It’s plain to me that we humans cannot understand the point of view of other human beings until we “walk a mile in their shoes” I think it holds true for almost everything. A person doesn’t understand Japanese cuisine until they eat it for the first time, no matter how much it’s described to you. Especially those big old flames that shoot up from those Hibachi grills!

It especially holds true for a person’s point of view as they accumulate years.

My Mom was 20 years older than me, my Daddy was 22 years older. Barely a generation. They were youngsters when they had me, just as Paula and I were youngsters when we married and had children.

I remember looking at them as a little child, and they were my whole world. Everything that came to me, came through them. My food, my clothes, my toys. Everything. They seemed to me as a four year old, which is as far back as I can remember, as almost super human. As I grew older, of course that point of view changed.

As an older child they seemed less super human, and more authoritarian. Always telling me what to do, and when to do it! How irritating that sometimes seemed to me. I didn’t care if it was a school day, and my bedtime, I didn’t think it was necessary to put that comic book down, and go to bed. But, there were consequences if I didn’t obey, so I put down the “Spiderman” comic book and jumped under the covers.

As a teenager, I thought I knew it all. I can’t remember when I learned it all, but I thought I knew it. I didn’t think Mom and Dad were right about anything. I didn’t think they knew much about life. Heck, who were they to tell me I couldn’t stay out past midnight? Who indeed?

As a young adult with children of my own, it seemed to me that Mom and Dad got a little smarter again, somehow. The advice they gave me about the kids was pretty accurate, especially the parts about how to handle them when they were misbehaving! And then, as my children grew into teenagers, and into adulthood and had children of their own, I looked back with new eyes at my parents. I looked back with more respect at how well they had handled my upbringing and that of my brother. I looked back with admiration at the help they had lent me, and the love that they had unselfishly given me…for free.

Now, as I sit here and watch the wind blow through the trees, and the rain start to fall in sheets from the sky, I am just now beginning to understand their viewpoint as “older” adults, as “senior” citizens. I don’t feel any differently then I ever have really, but I think that’s because time creeps up on us so incrementally that we don’t notice the changes that it causes until we walk by a mirror, or start to get up from flat on the floor after helping your little three year old granddaughter build a “block tower” Then you notice.

I just have to whisper a thanks into the air sometimes at night to those folks….thanks Dad and Mom. I appreciate it.

Information is now so “directed” that it almost seems like an “upside down pyramid” system, where tons of disparate “news” and questionable blocks of “knowledge” are aimed at just you…and you alone. It’s impersonal, but oh so important!

It’s sort of like a story I heard a couple of weeks ago about how the government was going to “get into” reducing the number of phishing and nuisance phone calls which Americans get. Since I heard the story, I’ve gotten twice as many calls! Maybe it’s the “last gasp” of the phishing telemarketing thieves…but I doubt it.

A huge number of evil spirits flew out of the Pandora’s box we call “the worldwide web” back when the lid was opened. They cannot be put back, and I seriously question whether or not they can even be controlled.

Remember that good is something mostly given when you personally look at, or touch someone in person. Love is given face to face in all but the rarest of cases.

The weight of an upside down pyramid on our figurative heads is going to drive some of us insane, and is going to cause many to continue to make decisions which are based on clicks transmitted through thin air.

What does it hurt to help someone a little? I know of people who have plenty of money who are as tight as a tick, but wouldn’t give another person a dime. I know of people who give, but resent it. I know people say “I give to my Church” and that’s all well and good, but a lot of that doesn’t end up in the hands of the people. A lot goes to the upkeep and operation of the Church, and that’s commendable.

When I used to work in Dalton, there were several homeless men who hung out around the Walnut Avenue bridge. I used to give them 10 or 20 dollars a week. I didn’t ask them what they did with it. I didn’t care. Some people would tell me they were just going to drink it up, but I didn’t care. Once I gave it to them it was their money. I hate to say, but I have probably given more money away to individuals over the years than to anything else. I have several people at Trade Day I give things away to every time I see them. I save keys and old rings and badges for three mentally retarded men who come by every time I am there. That’s what they want, and I save them something and give it to them. They don’t want money, for some reason they are just wanting those particular things and so that is what I give them. I am not blowing my own horn, cause what I do is not much, because I don’t have much. You couldn’t buy a good car with what cash I could scrap together from IRA’s and bank accounts and stuff…it just ain’t there.

There is one thing missing from the soul and nature of a lot of people these days, and that’s compassion. Look up the word in the dictionary and email it to our Congressman and Senators, and Supreme Court judges. Live by compassion. Live by caring. What does it hurt to care a little about other human beings, no matter what they look like or what their condition is?

I get so tired of hearing how “great” this country is, and how if you can’t make it here, you can’t make it anywhere, from some particular radio hosts and pundits. They should try walking a mile in other people’s shoes before running their mouths. Love one another, that’s the commandment we should live by every day.