Category: Uncategorized

I went through my early childhood thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I alternately went through several “stages” of wanting to be different things.

At twelve, I wanted to be a baseball player. That was the year after Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris battled it out for the home run title in ’61, with Maris winning and setting a “non steroid” record of 61 home runs in one season. I ate, slept and dreamed of baseball. I was a pretty decent ballplayer. I had the best hitting average in my one year in little leagure and my three years in pony league (you can look it up in the “Facts” sports page if you wanna’) Then…I hurt my knee and couldn’t play baseball for several weeks. My doctor wanted me to walk as part of my recuperation, so my Dad bought me an old set of left handed golf clubs. I fell in love with golf.

That was in 1964, and for the next four years golf was my sport. i read Arnold Palmer’s book….and he was my hero. I imitated his super fast and over dramatic swing. I wanted to be a pro golfer! I did pretty good at golf, winning some medals in High School at some of the matches, although I was very inconsistent. (one week, a round of 73, the next week a round of 90) I almost won a 27 hole Jaycee tournament my senior year with a great score….but got beat by Andy Bean.

At the same time in school, I got really interested in writing and journalism. I loved to write. Poetry, stories, news articles…you name it. I decided it would be better for me if I became a journalist when I grew up, instead of a golfer or a baseball player. My parents didn’t really care what I did…as long as I went to college and got a “good education” as my Dad always said.

My childhood and growing up years were troubled. My Mom had mental health issues. Most of those years were far from what one would consider a “normal” Leave it to Beaver type family setting. (although I want to say that my folks became very different once they became Grandparents, and more deeply loving. and they had always cared for us as children as much as they could…some things that happened just couldn’t be helped back then)

Deep in my heart, very deeply within my soul I felt that I needed to proceed differently if and when I became a Father and a family man. I made a decision somewhere along the line that one of my main goals in life, if not my only main goal in life would be to have a family and try and give them love and as much security as possible.

I watched yesterday afternoon and last night as all the family was gathered together for the fourth of July, with the exception of two of my grandchildren, but gathered together nonetheless. I watched them interact with each other. We didn’t have any major fights or arguments. There wasn’t any shouting, except the little grandchildrent “whooping” it up. We had friends of the family over…boyfriends…good friends from church. We had a good time, as far as good times can be had.

I finally figured out last night, as I have always really already known from the time I walked out of my parents house at 17 years of age to go to college, and got married shortly before my 19th birthday…I figured out what I wanted to be when I grow up. Not a baseball player, or a golfer. Not a journalist or a novelist. Not a businessman..which I certainly am not, and never will be! Not really a super succesful textile and carpet supervisor and manager either. Just middlin…

I just wanted to be a Dad, and a Papa. I’m like one of the old Cajun guys on that show “Swamp People” who called his children “Dad” and his grandchildren “Pa” because that’s what he wanted to hear them say to him. That’s what I wanted to be, and to hear when I grew up. That, and a halfway decent husband.

Now, I’m not writing this to elicit any responses from anyone. That’s not the purpose. This is written strictly for my cathartic need. It is written singly for my purpose of getting it out of my brain and onto a “piece of paper” so that it can be said, and so that I know that’s what I wanted for myself. I don’t really know how it’s all turned out…how it will all really turn out in the long run. It seems ok to me, though. That’s what I wanted to grow up to be….

Nothing less, nothing more.

Immortality in a Moment….or Maybe it was the Heat? From 2007

It’s the graveyard shift. You know. The middle of the night. 3:30 in the morning, and not a soul in sight, like it says in the Garth Brook’s song “The Thunder rolls.” Except…there are lots of souls in sight here. Lot’s of other Zombie like creatures crawling around over and under steaming a puffing machines, like human maggots, gnawing on food they can’t digest.

I tell you, this strange little work place sometimes seems like a depiction of Hell itself. I was standing at the top of a stairway that leads to another part of the building, and looked out over all these infernal machines, these machines of man. There were puffs of steam and water vapor coming from a thousand different places. Places that they are and are not supposed to be coming from. All of this fills the air with an eerie sense of unreality, and of dread.

All of the people look small and insignificant from this viewpoint, sort of like automatons, sentenced to do this hard work in this hot and desolate place forever, and forever. The top of the steps was about 160 degrees, since it’s near the ceiling where all of the hot air rises. I felt faint, like I was in a Stephen King nightmarescape and couldn’t get out. It was like that horrible dream we all have where you know you are awake and you want to move, but you can’t. You try to make a sound to wake yourself up from the terrible state, but you scream and it only comes out as a whimper.

Terrible.

More and more I am coming to believe that we are living our Hells here on Earth. I am often not sure of what comes hereafter. I wish I could say I was 100% sure. God, I wish it. How many people can say that? Those of you that can congratulations. I envy your faith. I just can’t say that yet. Does that mean I am not saved? What is saved?

I believe in all of what Jesus taught. I believe that existence is a product of creation….therefore I believe in a “creator”.

It’s just so hard in this current state to say I totally know what’s going to happen today or tomorrow, if I find myself no longer here.

I often wonder about some of the things the faithful believe. People who have had near death experiences tell about going to meet friends and family as they move “towards the light” I wonder though, is there any sense of time after we die? If, when we die we morph to immortality, then there would be no time, right? So therefore, our loved ones who are waiting there “beyond the light” for us in the great beyond would feel like they no more had even got there and had time to turn around when BOOM, there stands everyone else they ever loved following right along behind them. It blows my mind.

No sense of time in the hereafter so BANG, there everyone is! In the meantime, back here on Earth, we go on living the laws of Physics to the utmost, which means time passes normally for us. Gosh, it really makes me wonder about things when I think about stuff like that. My head starts to swim and clog up like a sewer. I can’t comprehend it at all.

I wish I could have a vision which would make all these things clear. After all, it’s predicted that young men will dream dreams, and old men will see visions about the things which are going to happen. I haven’t had my vision yet though. I am still waiting on it. I am waiting on it here tonight at 3:30 a.m. COME ON VISION!….well…that didn’t work well. Perhaps if I get up there in that 160 degree heat for a while longer? Nah….not going to happen.

Maybe tomorrow night, or perhaps tomorrow during the day when I am trying to sleep it will come. While the sun is shining it will all come to me in a flash, and I will understand the nature of the Universe!

I am NOT holding my breath though.

I’ve never been good at keeping New Years resolutions, up until this year. Paula got me an Apple Watch for Christmas. I’ve been wearing a Fitbit for several years (and I still do…people ask why I wear two fitness watches. I tell them they do different things). Anyway….

For New Years I resolved to walk my 10,500 steps a day for a year. That’s just over 5 Miles a day. So far, through six months I’ve kept that resolution. (Knock on wood) Those of you friends who follow me have seen my photos. Woodstation road, Ringgold Nature Trail, round and round the neighborhood. On days I can’t get outside, I walk in the house…run in place, or walk room to room. At the beach, I used the gym some, but preferred to walk the two miles down to the state park and back. The last day I didn’t reach my goal was December 30th.

I hope I can make it through the next six months. If I can, it will be the first time I have been able to keep a resolution for a year. I’m somewhat a creature of habit, and my schedule is at a point where I might just be able to…

I almost got derailed last week by a creature just larger than a pin head. I went to take a shower on Thursday, and found a tick embedded in my upper thigh. Normally, I would have been able to feel the little “sucker” but that part of my leg is numb because of a back injury. He was already embedded deeply and I had a big red infected spot on the leg. I took a set of fine tweezers and did like the google results said: “grasp as close to the head as possible, and put slow steady pressure on while pulling, so the head does not get left embedded in the skin”. Well…it did. It’s neck stretched and “pop” it went.  Ecch….

That necessitated a call and trip to my doctors office, where they dug the ticks head out…leaving a nice size hole. They left a nice size hole because they only had some regular tweezers with which they were first trying to get the rest of the little critter out.  I finally suggested using a suture needle…and the doctor agreed that would probably be a better idea.  I should have brought my own tweezers…anyway….

That night, I did not feel like finishing 5000 steps…but I did. They weren’t fun or easy, but I got them done.

Who woulda’ known that a tiny little creature like that biting you could make you feel so bad? I hadn’t had a tick bite in 30 years, so I didn’t remember….plus I was a lot younger 30 years ago (weren’t you?) I got a spray bottle of deep woods OFF sitting next to the back door now, and I spray up good with that stuff now if I’m going to be outside for any length of time.

I think about this thing with the exercise and I wonder how different my life would have been if I had shown such resolve in a lot of other things in my life. I think I have done pretty good with most of my familial relationships, but there were a lot of things I could have done better if I’d have done them with the same “resolve”  I have set about doing my New Year’s resolution.  I could have done better with grades.  I probably could have done better with some jobs.  I have learned later in life than I probably should have that a person has to have a certain amount of stubbornness in order to do certain things.  I imagine that people who are champions in any sort of area learn that quality….or perhaps innately have that quality, a lot earlier in life.

As for me, I’m going to keep on walking until I cannot do it anymore.  I’m going to take photos of my mini adventures, because it’s so easy to do.  I’ve been doing it regularly for almost five years now, and I think it’s helped me physically.  I know for sure it’s helped me mentally, as a walk is as good a therapy for things which are bothering a body as anything I have ever found.

 

 

When I was in school I took a pencil and paper with me every day. Right up until the day I graduated High School, and even my last year in college in 1974 it was pencil and paper or pen and paper. I never imagined any other way.

When the electronic age started, I was a Manager in a bedspread and blanket factory. I think I got my first computer in ’87 or ’88. Spreadsheets soon followed, along with emails and memo’s via the internet. I adapted to these things and I kept up. I had to, or have someone else take my job.

Back when I was still using pencil and paper in classes…often boring repetitive classes, I doodled. It was fun and it made the teacher think you were furiously taking notes. I did some great doodles that I wish I had kept. Some epic doodles. Most often I liked starting with a simply pattern and making it more and more complex as the doodle developed. I found patterns interesting, I found them fascinating. I began to believe there was something more to patterns than I knew, something more than I could even imagine.

I was never a good math student. I’ll admit I had a lot of trouble with Algebra. I really like Geometry however, and actually made B’s in that area. It seemed more pattern oriented to me. I took a course at Georgia in “Philosophy and Logic” which continued to focus my interest and belief in patterns. It was one of the most difficult courses I ever took. Try an advanced course in Logic sometime if you don’t believe me.

The more I look at our world, the more I see that patterns are in everything, from the macro photos of plants and insects that one of my Facebook friends so beautifully takes, to the posts which show galaxy after gorgeous galaxy. The more I study, the more I see repeated patterns. Similar patterns in nature. Similar patterns in all things, from the cells in our body, to our Universe.

There is a pattern.

There are patterns which were used to create all things.

There will be patterns which affect the future of all things.

Perhaps everything started off with a doodle somewhere by our creator.

Since patterns are repeated, perhaps at some point in the huge pool of time our existence will be repeated.

I am one that does not believe in an end to things. Call me crazy, a lot of people do, but that’s just the way I see it.

I traveled to New York City a couple of years back, and got very acquainted with the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, the World Trade Tower site, and all that area thereabouts.  We were staying close by, within walking distance, and we took long walks to all of these places and more.

I was reminded of the trip I took to NYC back in 1974, back when the World Trade Towers were new..just operational enough for 4 adventurous budding Professional District Scout Executives who were visiting for the weekend to take the elevator up as far as it would go.  What a ride, and what a site.  And then…when I looked at it last year all gone except for the foundation and nearly 3000 innocent people dead, it was hard to bear.

Then there was the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.  On Ellis Island were the records of thousands of people who had immigrated into our country.  Sometimes waiting for weeks, or even months in the harshests of conditions to get into this wonderful country they had heard so much about.  All of them, waiting their turn, waiting patiently and going through all the pangs of being a new immigrant coming into the land of opportunity.  Irish, German, Polish, Italian, you name it…they all came and they waited their turn and they filled out their papers and they came into this new world legally.  Under the system of law, like they were supposed to do.  “Give me your tired your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, give these, the homeless tempess tossed to me” that’s what Lady Liberty stood for.  And for all the people who have built a life in this country through hard work, respect for the LAW of the Land, and respect for others.  There are so many of them, and the great city of New York embodies it all! 

Now the rule of law seems to be thrown out the door.  The sacredness of the Lady of Liberty is trashed by those who would break the law, and by those who support them.  What good is it to live in a country where we are supposed to be bound by the rule of law, when many look the other way EVERY DAY so that their profits may soar, their pockets may fill, all to the detriment and loss of those whose families came in through Ellis Island those years ago…legally, and worked so hard to make a life in this country.  How easy it seems now to some, when they can ride the streets in brand new cars and trucks within days or weeks of gracing our shores.  They can band together and rent huge houses and take the money they earn and buy luxuries with it.  Send it back home you say?  Maybe, but what good does that do our country?

I know that many ARE here to try and better their lives.  There are not just the gold diggers.  But, when the law of the land is broken so blatantly with such impunity even by those whose intentions are good, does that make it right?  Does that make it legal, just because their need is great?  There are many who crossed Ellis Island whose need was just as great…perhaps greater.  How many Irishmen starved to death back in Ireland during the famine waiting THEIR turn to get into America?  And how many would have bristled had you told them you were going to smuggle them in illegally, as criminals?

Sometimes, somedays I look at the pictures of the Statue of Liberty which I took in New York, and remember looking at that hole in the ground where all those Americans diied, and I just wonder when we are going to wake up and find that the invasion that is going to finish us off didn’t come from Al Quaeda, but from a bit further South.

Well…when at first you don’t succeed getting something posted try two more times….but it’s worth trying again:

I noticed that Mrs. Nellie McWhorter has died. Besides my Mom and Dad she is the person in Trion of whom I have the longest memories. I remember her from when we lived up on sixth street back in the early 1950’s. She was always so nice to the little crazy boy next door. She let me hunt lightning bugs in her back yard, and even gave me a jar to put them in. She told me “Make sure and let them out in the morning, so they don’t die” I had fun with those little bugs that night. Bet I had a hundred of them in that jar! She also would let me play in their driveway with my little old “tootsie” toy cars. The neighbors ALWAYS had a better driveway to play in! She never had a cross word that I can remember. I know that her husband passed away fairly early and left her a widow. I remember seeing her out and about back in the 1970’s after we moved back to Trion, and was surprised she know my name…Back 10 or more years ago she started driving her little blue Ford sedan down to Trade Day and selling knick knacks and fried pies to make a little money to make it through the month on. A lot of elderly people did and are doing that. I got to renew my friendship with her, because I loved the pies and I hate I didn’t know who to ask what had happened to her. I have been missing her, and now know we will continue to miss her. It happens quite often with that group of older folks, one of whom I am fast becoming, who come down to set up and make a few little dollars. RIP Mrs. Nellie…you will be missed.

Once Upon a Cloudy Day….

One of the most beautiful days of my life was sometime back in the summer of 1960. It’s a vivid memory of a very ordinary act.

It was a day not unlike the ones we have had lately. Lots of blue sky and big puffy clouds in the sky. The blue was a deep azure, something which seemed unusual to me that day at the age of 10. The clouds were bright white and as puffy as giant marshmallows and were assuming all kinds of neat shapes.

We had a lot of clover in our side yard, and it wasn’t terribly hot, so I went and lay down in one of those gently cool and wonderful smelling plots of grass, and looked straight up into the air. I can understand why the honey bees love the clover. It smelled like the world itself…all wrapped up in a bevy of tiny little white blossoms. I imagined each white cloud which floated by as something which existed in the world. There was an elephant, one shaped like an arrowhead, and another like Casper the Friendly Ghost’s head (OK…I read too many comic books…) I didn’t think much about anything else. I think I kind of just “zoned out” for about an hour and lay there with both my eyes and my mouth wide open.

I didn’t care what the people in the rest of the world were doing right then. I didn’t know anything about war or killing yet. I hadn’t even heard the name “Vietnam” and I had no cares about what was going on in Washington D.C. I only cared about what was happening at that moment. Right then was the only thing which mattered to me!

That was the last time I ever remember doing that. I think it’s the closest I ever came to just absolutely becoming a part and parcel with the world around me. I believe that’s why it still seems fresh in my memory, even though it’s been 53 years ago.

I think about it sometimes when the sky is an azure blue and the clouds are all puffy and big, and I see a big patch of clover. I wonder if it would be the same. I would probably just lay there and think about things which I “need” to do. Tasks which have to be done.

I guess all I can ask for is to have a patch of clover planted over my head one of these days. Then I’ll have a long, long time to look up at the sky. I love that day though, and still remember it with fondness.

Tomorrow is my dear wife’s birthday. We got to discussing time tonight and how quickly it passes. We came to the conclusion that it would be nice to have a device enabling us to “slow down” the good times. Not just vacations and things such as that, but instead the years we spent raising our children. Those years flew by like an eagle in a steep dive. My memory being what it is now, those days are a blur for me.

I wish I could go back to that very last car trip that Paula and the kids and I took out to Idaho…driving out across the plains, through the mountains of Colorado and Utah. If was beautiful. I’m sure Kirsten, Teddy, and Matt don’t remember it quite as fondly though!

My wife and our family mean everything to me. There have been times when I may not have acted like it, but it is the absolute truth. They are more precious to me than any amount of money…gold, silver or diamonds. I don’t say this to ingratiate myself, I say it because it is the truth.

If I had done what I should have done, I could have done better. I should have managed my time better. Regret is useless at this point though. I will just have to hope that I use the time I have left more wisely. I have no time left for some things.

No time left to hate other people because of the color of their skin, or because of who they love.

No time left to try to manage other people’s business, or their beliefs. I have enough of a problem managing my own.

No time left to worry about whether or not other people’s opinions are right or wrong. I’m getting to the point where it doesn’t matter.

No time left to waste on arguing over things which I cannot control nor even wish to control. I’m never going to be President or King as I once imagined.

No time left for this or that smart alec remark or sarcastic retort. I’ve made a few this week I know, but my time on Facebook now is like a robin swooping down to grab a worm…just in and out. It’s probably better that way.

I’m trying my very best to concentrate on the the things that matter most in my life.

I really miss the pre-social media stuff, like “magic night” (that’s game!) and meals with no cell phones. The times before texting took the place of talking. The days when you had to get in the car and physically go see people. People like my Dad and Mom. I yearn for those days, but know they are not coming back. It makes me want to cry like a baby. But, I accept what life has become, with limitations.

If anyone ever invents that little slowing down time device they will be richer than Bill Gates. As for now… there’s no time left.

Percentages…I think about them. Concerning knowledge of the Universe, I speculate we know about 0.001%. Of God we probably know even less. We place so much importance on petty differences, and our human “problems” we sometimes completely forget that caring and understanding should be our two primary imperatives. Those two simple emotions embraced totally by all, would solve 99.99% of those human problems…thereby giving us much more time to increase our knowledge of God, his nature, and the Universe he created, in which we exist.

At some point, we will all be transformed. So,…. what’s so hard about getting along now?

I feel like everything in the Universe is connected. Inexplicably but undeniably connected.

I don’t know how. I’ll never know exactly how in this lifetime. But it’s the way I feel.

I feel so privileged to have been able to have a life within the confines of the Universe. To be able to think, to touch, to feel, and to remember. To be able to develop love, affection and empathy for other lives on the same journey, at the same time is awesome.

If it is a gift from a creator…one who set this all in motion, I am grateful. I feel personally as if life is that, but for those who have other theories…whatever they are or are not, life is still a rare and special thing. Obviously, quite a rare occurrence.

So, all of our memories and feelings make us who we are, but we are more than just that.

We are a heart and a spirit, bound together in a mysterious and intricate dance with all other things in existence…and isn’t it wonderful?

Remember this when others who do not realize the privilege of life as a positive thing, try to make your journey dark.

Don’t give in to them. Don’t sink to their level. Their darkness is it’s own punishment, whether they realize it or not.

It doesn’t have to be ours.