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I used to wonder what it would be like to be old. I distinctly remember when I was 12 years old in 1962, thinking that it would be forever before I would be as ancient as my Old Grandparents! Grandma was only 63 that year…two years younger than I am now, and Grandpa was 68. All things are relative aren’t they? My Grandparents lived many more years. My Grandmother died in 1999 at the age of 100..and I, the man who had thought her old at 63 was still recovering from the first of two heart attacks, and could not help carry her coffin from the O’Zion Church that few steps to the graveyard just outside the back door.

She had never seemed to have aged that much at all from that day in 1962, up until perhaps the last year of her life. I certainly did. Relativity.

I looked at my own Grandchildren tonight and wondered what they will remember. I am 65 so I must seem decidedly aged to them. I look at myself through one set of eyes, one angle of perception, and they look with different eyes. I could not see in my Grandmother’s eyes her hopes and dreams for me. My Grandchildren cannot see mine for them. All through our lives, we are hopelessly at odds with a set of expectations for ourselves which we perceive that others have for us, when in fact our own expectations are probably always greater and more pressing.

One thing I do know that my Grandmother wished for me was more happiness and less worry. I know this because she told me so in person one day. The only other thing she wished was that I would come visit more often. I so very much wish I had.

So, for my Grandchildren…I wish for you more happiness and less worry…..and come visit when you can.

Welcome to the world of instant information, or misinformation. The world of instant fame on YouTube, or instant shame on Instagram. The world of hackers, and improbable experts in every subject they did not study but know everything about. The world of instant anger and self righteousness. The world of instant misunderstanding, because you cannot see the face of the “speaker” nor the tone of their voice. The world where “Lol” covers your azz for saying anything, anytime. The world of fantasy mixed with a few facts sprinkled sparsely amongst the overload of BS. The world where too many spend too long too often.

Where do we go from here? Who writes the rules of operation? The etiquette of the cyberspace. The rules of engagement, the Geneva convention of electronic war?

I read a lot of comments on myriads of different posts about a variety of subjects, and I hope that most people are hiding behind that wall of cyber anonymity in what they say. Otherwise we have some seriously sick people out there, and we are in BIG trouble.

I believe in very few things concretely anymore. This is a time of flux and chaos.

I don’t believe all American’s have a chance to achieve what some Americans have a chance to achieve.

I believe we are entering an era when fear tactics and intimidation of some people is going to become more brazen.

I believe the rich are going to get richer, and the poor will become poorer.

I believe Senior Americans will become cast offs and throw aways

I believe jobs will become more scarce, and things Americans buy will become more expensive.

I believe that nuclear weapons could very well be used for the first time since World War II.

I hope that family units will stick together and support each other. I believe trust in other institutions outside of close families is going to diminish.

If I am wrong, then at some point….if I am still here, you can point your finger at me and laugh.

One of my favorite songs used to BE “I Believe” :

I believe for every drop of rain that falls

A flower grows

I believe that somewhere in the darkest night

A candle glows

I believe for everyone who goes astray, someone will come

To show the way

I believe, I believe

I believe above a storm the smallest prayer

Can still be heard

I believe that someone in the great somewhere

Hears every word

Everytime I hear a new born baby cry,

Or touch a leaf or see the sky

Then I know why, I believe

Everytime I hear a new born baby cry,

Or touch a leaf or see the sky

Then I know why, I believe

By Ervin Drake and Jule Stein. Originally sang by Frankie Lane

I’ve sung this optimistic song many times….and believed it.

Wish I could still say I did…….perhaps again one day.

Everybody has a story. The rich and the poor. The small and the tall. Every human being contains within them the most wonderful and complex story anyone could ever hope to hear. The story of their life

The very few people who are great writers can express certain portions of their wonderful existence. But even the greatest can only show us a small snapshot of the whole. Think,… it takes you 40 hours to read a really long, interesting biography. That’s just one ordinary work week. It’s just an abbreviated compilation, albeit many I have read have been superb. Oh, that we could know more of the inner monologues of some of the great minds.

Used to be, back in the days of the great philosophers, their proteges would live with them and listen to hours and days of their teaching. Used to be people who wanted to learn a great skill would apprentice to a master for a decade or more in order to become a master themselves. Nowadays we have school, but it seems we get snippets of this and dribblings of that, and never too very much of anything specific, unless one studies to be a doctor, or a lawyer or a PHD. Even then, we don’t know the inner being. We don’t know the whole story.

I like to say, I have composed my greatest works in the bathtub, and have forgotten them as I have toweled off. The warm water does wonders for the blood circulation in the brain.

Be sure of one thing. Do not ever look down upon any other human being. Don’t think you are better than the poorest farmer working the meanest rice field in China. His story might be much greater than your own. In his eyes it certainly is…and perhaps in God’s eyes also.

My Daddy was 13 years old when Pearl Harbor was attacked. He remembered listening to President Roosevelt on the tiny radio they had in their depression era house. He was like so many of America’s boys back then. He couldn’t wait to get old enough to go fight. He was so young when he enlisted in early 1945, that my Grandfather had to sign papers for him to join.

That war, and the subsequent Korean War turned the 17 year old boy into a hardened 22 year old man who had seen more death when he came home than anyone should ever see. Those memories, along with a tattoo which said “Mother” stayed with him the rest of his life.

I carry many of those memories he had with me. He chose to unburden himself of many of them for some reason….perhaps because he couldn’t bear for someone else not to know about the horrors of what he had seen, along with the camaraderie he had experienced and shared with his fellow sailors.

Because of that, I have always been staunchly against war.

I always will be

Today is a day to remember those who gave their lives at Pearl Harbor, and to hope against all hope there will never be another war like that, and that we can end those wars which are now being fought.

Every year without fail it comes. It’s that time of year again when my nerves become as jangled as old St. Nick’s jingle bells.

I can’t help it. I’ve tried, but to no avail. Every December 25th, right after all the wrapping paper has been torn off of all the presents (usually a TON of them…really…) I start saying to myself: “next year, I am not putting myself through the strain of trying to get so much…to do so much” but, when next year rolls around…..this year now, I start getting that feeling down in my gut that I am just not going to have enough dough, ray, mi to get what I feel like I need to get. Sometimes it get’s to the point where it downright depresses me.

I know when I was a kid, a lot of my best memories of Christmas were, or course at my Grandparent’s home. But, I guarantee you right now that they were a site simpler Christmases than now. One year that I remember really vividly was back in the mid 60’s I guess. We didn’t usually go up there until a few days before Christmas day. And guess what? Grandma didn’t have her Christmas stuff already out! That’s right; she didn’t get it out the day after Halloween like some of us do now. She didn’t have too much stuff anyway. One medium size cardboard box and that was it.

For some unknown reason that year, I went out with Grandma to cut a tree. Grandma was appointed to all that kind of stuff because of Grandpa’s arthritis in his knees. I can’t remember when he didn’t have it. Besides, he was the type who thought if Grandma needed a tree, then SHE should be the one to get it. We walked for a good piece, up and down some rolling hills. Finally, Grandma spotted a little pine tree. It was about a 4 footer, and had pretty, fully needled limbs. We took the saw and cut it down, and I drug it back to the house. Out came the cardboard box, and my brother and I, and Grandma put on the decorations. Everyone else just sort of hung back and watched. It was great fun! We had to be oh so careful with those glass ornaments, and even had to replace one or two of those big old bulbs on the one strand of red lights that she owned.

When we were through, and plugged in the lights, that little pine became transformed into a veritable “Times Square” beauty. I don’t think it would have won any contests of ANY kind. But for us, it was good. Very good.

My brother and I usually only had two or three presents each at Christmas. There was one “main” present, which usually never exceeded a twenty dollar price tag. Then there were a couple of smaller ones. Grandpa always delivered, with a stocking full of fruit. Oranges, apples, sliced orange candy, peppermint sticks (the soft ones) and all types of assorted nuts. I really looked forward to that stocking! Then, when we visited O’ Zion Baptist Church for their Christmas program, we ended up getting that wonderful brown paper bag full of the same kinds of goodies. The sliced orange candy was ALWAYS my favorite!

I don’t know when things changed, but somewhere along the line they certainly did. The stores all have gotten larger. Then of course we have had the development of Wal-Mart, the king of merchandising. With them around to push the small Mom and Pop businesses into bankruptcy, the way that Christmas has been perceived and promoted has changed tremendously. Every year it’s pushed up by a day or two. It used to be that it was right after Thanksgiving before you saw anything “Christmas” come out. Then, they moved it up a couple of weeks. They have kept moving and moving it until now the Trick or Treater’s are not off of the streets and into their beds, before the Christmas stuff comes out.

It’s not the same stuff either. I looked and looked the other day to try and find something that wasn’t made in China. I finally did. It was made in Viet Nam. I went through a JC Penney store the other day and looked at clothing and found made in Egypt, Viet Nam, Peru, Nicaragua, Singapore, South Africa, etc. You name it. The only thing I found in the whole store in 30 minutes of looking that was made in the U.S., was good old “Cannon” towels.

Well, back where I started. The feeling in the gut. It’s a little worse than usual this year. My situation is a little tenuous, and money is going to be really short. This MAY just be the year when I am forced to do what I think about every year and cut back. Besides, I am not really sure that I want to make China’s economy any better than it already is…or Viet Nam’s for that matter.

Maybe I should go out in the woods and cut down a little old pine tree, just for old time’s sake. (If the pulp wood guys haven’t gotten them all!)

I watched the launch of the Orion rocket this morning…and it brought back a little “thrill” in my soul which I thought was long gone.

How well I remember the early days of the “space race” between the United States and the USSR. The Russians beat us to the punch with “Sputnik” and the first man in outer space was Yuri Gagarin…back in April of 1961. Our first man in space was Alan Shepherd, who launched a month behind the Russians on May 5th of 1961. President Kennedy stood before America only 20 days later and said:

“We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.”

And so we were off and running, and on July 20th 1969, Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. No other country has ever put a man there.

We have gone through many years since then, with other programs taking the place of “deep space” travel. The Space shuttle program…the space station.

All of that was exciting, but not something which would serve to inspire the soul.

Now with the Orion program, humanity seems to be pointed out towards the depth of space again. Away from the Earth, out into the unknown and unknowable. Out to perhaps one day have humanity set foot on another world.

I’m a lifelong reader of Science Fiction and Fantasy. I loved Asimov, Clarke, and Heinlein. I also liked less well known authors also, like Frank Herbert and later on Orson Scott Card. But it was mainly Heinlein who really put the reader out there amongst the stars. I really “grokked” his books.

This morning as Orion rose into the sky I thought of a quote I had read from author Norman Cousins, who became famous for “laughing” himself back to health:

To be able to rise from the earth;

to be able, from a station in outer space,

to see the relationship of the planet earth to other planets;

to be able to contemplate the billions of factors in precise and beautiful combination that make human existence possible;

to be able to dwell on an encounter of the human brain and spirit with the universe—

all this enlarges the human horizon . . .

— Norman Cousins, 1973

Hopefully this morning, the United States, and perhaps the entire world again took its first baby step towards a hopeful ultimate destiny of reaching the stars and the planets surrounding them, and “going where no man has gone before.”

Wisdom comes with a price. Sometimes the price is age. Yes oh yes…age! Yet many well minded but weak bodied elderly are buried long before they die!

Sometimes the price is pain. Sometimes the price is sacrifice and sometimes it is study. Sometimes wisdom comes with love which requires no reciprocation, and the price is humility. Sometimes it comes with giving which requires no acknowledgement, and the price is anonymity.

Some people gain more wisdom quickly because they are open to the ideas and opinions of others. Wisdom is hard to find in a mind made up to the certainty of all things, at the expense of the independent thought of others. Wisdom is understanding, and understanding can only be determined by the compassion to consider even some things with which you may not agree. Wisdom is respect shown until respect is no longer given.

I wish I were wise enough to be a problem solver instead of an observer. One day I hope to be that problem solver.

I’m working hard on it. I’ve got the age part down pat, but that’s the irony isn’t it? That’s the Catch-22 of human life!

Some of the other qualities continue to escape me, and probably always will due to my nature. God help me, because some days I cannot help myself.

Once back in the summer of 1974, I spent the night right in the center of Spanish Harlem in New York City. The marimbas were playing all through the night, and people were singing, dancing and cooking, because it was a Saturday night. There were screams of joy, and a few of pain. I slept well that night, with the smell of the spicy food creeping into my dreams and making me famished for breakfast.

We had been to the site of the newly built, soon to be opened World Trade Center earlier that evening, and had been invited to go up part of the way in an elevator by a construction foreman. There were four of us young men: a long tall Texas boy, an African American former college football player from Kentucky, our bespectacled New York native Peace Corp member…in whose apartment we were staying, and me…the backwoods Georgia boy.

We rode the subways, visited the harbor where lady liberty stood, and got hot dogs at Coney Island. Nobody had a bad word to say to us, never disparaged our little mixed group, or even looked at us funny. We went about the town fearlessly, never anticipating any harm or trouble. Just three out of towner’s getting shown the ropes by the city boy.

Those lights, music and smells from that night still bubble to the top of my memory from time to time, and I wonder how the world has gotten so much more callous and hateful in forty short years. I’d like to go back in time once again and look out over the lights of Manhattan from those soon to be opened, ill fated towers and yell out to the people below to stay the same as they were.

Some days I wish I was like the Tin Man from the “Wizard of Oz” In the first place I would LOVE to have that oil can and be able apply some of that magical oil to a few of my joints, especially my knees! It would be great to have a new heart too.

The one I have is a little battered and beaten. Really though I don’t feel any different than I did when I was 18. Mostly because I cannot remember HOW I felt when I was 18, or 21, or 35…and so on. You get the idea.

If not the Tin Man, then my next choice would be the Cowardly Lion. Nowadays I feel a lot of times the courage I used to think I had, has abandoned me. I’m fearful of a lot of things to which I used to not give much thought. Lack of days, loss of health, or apprehension for my love ones, or perhaps it is just the way which life progresses. I used to think a lot of times about doing things “I wanted to do” …and I would always think “well I’ve got a lot of time left” What an idiot I was…am….Perhaps it’s because my brain just isn’t what it use to be?

In that case, maybe the Scarecrow?? I can certainly tell you that this getting old ain’t like being in Kansas anymore. I’ve been there once and it just isn’t the same.