Looks and Money

Got up to discover the winning lottery ticket for the mega millions was sold right here in Maryland. Only problem is, I don't have that ticket. I'm not surprised. I was getting nervous thinking about all that money and just what I would do with it. The experts say it puts a terrible strain on you. Over half the people that win these lotteries wind up broke, divorced, depressed or all three. Man I dodged a bullet on that one. At least now I can go on about my business without that burden on my mind.
Yesterday the news did a piece about the effects of Facebook on people. Turns out 75% of us get body envy looking at the pictures of others posted on there. A study was conducted and the results were clear. Apparently we see other people and wish we looked like them. Feelings of jealousy and guilt creep in. It leads to depression and buying used treadmills ! It is damaging our self image.
I thought about that and breathed a sigh of relief. I post very few pictures of myself on facebook. So others don't get to looking at me. Turns out I'm doing a public service. That way I'm not contributing to others depression ! Who knew ? If 75% of the people get upset looking at others, 25% of us have to be looking good. I'll join the 25%. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I figure it this way. I didn't win the lottery and become rich. You can't have it all I guess. Looks and Money. I'll have to settle for the looks.
Keep in mind, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I'll continue to view this situation through the mind's eye. Occasionally I catch a glimpse of an aging man with gray hair and a bit of a pot belly. I wonder how he gets in my bathroom mirror ? No matter, he is soon gone and that youthful guy I know so well is back ! I just don't click on that button that says " display images " it's better that way.

Grown Up

My sister lives in Florida and I don't get to visit her very often. And by often I mean every decade or so but we frequently talk. I was thinking how nice it is to live in this age when you can pick up the phone, call long distance and still afford to pay the mortgage. Wasn't like that when I was young. Long distance calls were expensive. Shoot now with verizon to verizon wireless it's free ! I keep telling myself that, even though it isn't exactly true, but it sounds wonderful and justifies those long discussions.

 I am the youngest of four and the other day as I was talking to her it struck me how things have changed. We were discussing my oldest brother, who is very ill, and Mom who is eighty two. To my astonishment we have both grown up ! This was an adult discussion about grave matters. I would much rather we had been arguing over what channel to watch on television. Medical insurance and diagnosis of doctors really didn't fit into a conversation with my sister, Did it ? The sad answer is, yes.  On the positive side at least we are still talking. Sometimes" siblings " a term I hate, much prefer brothers and sisters, don't get along in adulthood. We get along splendidly. We always did. 

Life chugs along and picks up speed. I am at the age were it's really getting up a good head of steam ! Funny how when time goes so slow, think about getting out of school, you don't think about it much. As time increases in speed you just want to slow down and enjoy every minute. It's a paradox. I remember I couldn't wait to be sixteen. Drive a car. Turn eighteen and be legal. Then turn 21 and be legal, again. Now I just want to slow down some of this stuff. Grandson headed off to middle school next year ? Put that on hold. I'd like to enjoy elementary school for at least another year,please. Grand daughters are almost ten. Whoa slow it down ! And no, I don't need the Golden Years plan just yet, thank you very much.

Was a time I talked to my sister of records on the radio and how adults are so lame. Now we talk about medicare and replacing our organs. We talk about our Grand children. Let me repeat that, I talk about my Grand kids with my sister ! Now how old is that ? LOL  Yup, I remember talking to my sister when we both couldn't wait to " grow up." Well, we're grown alright. Wish we were kids again. I could use a do over. Wouldn't change much just kinda smooth out the rough patches. Take my time and get it right so to speak. 

Daylights a burnin' I'd better get moving. Time waits for no man, or Sisters either.

Lottery Dreams

Well it's Mega Millions fever time. The potential jackpot is a half a billion dollars ! The lottery agents are going wild. Even our local news team admits to pooling their money and buying two hundred and sixty dollars worth of tickets. Yes, I will buy a ticket. You can't win if you don't play. Every time this happens I am surprised. Why would you buy a hundred tickets for a chance at five hundred million but not for two hundred million. With that much money it is really going to make a difference ? I don't think so.
I watched a statistician on television that explained about the odds of winning. The odds of winning the jackpot are one in one hundred seventy six million. That didn't mean a lot to me other than it is pretty steep odds. What hit home for me was when he explained to change the statistical odds of you getting the winning ticket you would have to buy one hundred thousand tickets. Then your odds increase by one tenth of one percent ! Not being a real math whiz this information is hard to wrap my head around. It certainly seems like the more tickets I buy the more chances I have to win. Not so. Through the first one hundred thousand tickets the odds remain exactly the same. I usually buy just one but I may buy a few extra, just in case.
Also yesterday they had a small news article about the lottery. I don't remember the exact figure but a good number of people that win the lottery go broke. I would still like the chance to try to manage that much money. I'm thinking put it somewhere very safe. I wouldn't need to invest it. Investing is to try to make more money. Once I have a million or so I think that would be enough to satisfy my needs. Like I say, I'd take the chance.
It is fun to dream. I'll get my ticket. Good Luck Everybody.

Turning a phrase

Certain phrases enter common usage and remain until they become cliche. Some of these phrases I immediately dislike. I don't really have an explanation for it either. Some just don't sit right. The latest that I hear being used is " forever home." As in these puppies are waiting for their forever home. Hate that phrase. I have nothing against puppies and nothing against anyone adopting them, I just don't like the phrase.
Another that has crept into common usage and has been around for awhile is quality time. I need to spend quality time. The implication to me is, I want to spend time doing what I want. I don't care what others want, I want to spend time doing what I want. That's quality time. Sounds more like selfish time.
Another that has been around forever that I really dislike is, state of the art. It is state of the art. Exactly what state is that ? I know, it is the latest state. The phrase just says little in my opinion. Cutting edge technology is another. Please, can you not be a little more imaginative in your speech ?
A word that gets used a lot is spouse. I hate the word spouse. Makes having a wife sound like some kind of illness. I have a spouse. Really,sorry to hear that, but they have medicine for that. I much prefer wife. I don't like to hear people say, I took a wife though. I prefer to think it was a mutual agreement.
I don't know where these phrases come from or how they get started. Why some phrases fall into the slang category and others get ingrained in our speech is somewhat of a mystery. I'll leave that discussion to the scholars. I'll leave that with a phrase I do like, It's all good.

Save It

There was a news article concerning landmarks owned by the city of Baltimore. The city is considering the sale or possible lease of these properties to investment groups. The cost of maintaining the properties being the driving force. Some of these landmarks may be lost altogether if something isn't done. A public outcry from some quarters can be heard. The city should be fixing these historic properties and maintaining them for posterity. The same group doing the crying however,are not forthcoming with the funds. I suspect the very same group are the ones complaining the loudest about taxes.
This article brought to mind similar circumstances I had occasion to face before. A certain town, which I won't name, was offered a free gift of an semi-historic object. The immediate response was, wonderful, that will look so nice. This object, that was going to be given away, mysteriously refurbished itself. All at once it was already set in place and fully restored. I asked the question. How are we going to pay for this ? I was met with silence and hostile stares. Well, it is a piece of history ! It will add charm to our town. Children can visit it. It will be an educational tool. Yes, but how do we pay for the renovation and upkeep ? No answers there.
The point I'm trying to make is this. It is the saving of the object, whether that be a building or anything else, that is the most important consideration. These objects need to be in the hands of those that have the funds and others means of taking care of them. To put it another way it would do me little good to win a Ferrari ! I couldn't afford to insure it or have it serviced. It would just be a burden. Sometimes we need to rid ourselves of burdens. The city of Baltimore is no different. If these objects have to be sold or leased to ensure their survival so be it.
Tough choices for tough times. It would be nice doesn't equate to we should. White elephants I believe.
Just sayin'.

Mysterious

When I was a small child I asked my Grandmother this question. If heaven is such a wonderful place why doesn't anyone want to go there ? At least when they are still alive, they don't ? Every time I ask someone I get the same answer. After I die, I hope to.
Well, Grandma told me this. That's because God put you on earth for a reason. You can't go to heaven until you do what God wants. Then you die and God takes you up to heaven. Why, I said. Because God is the boss and he said so. That was all the answer I needed back then. That was back in the day when " because " was also a valid answer. Grandma said God was the boss and everyone I knew agreed with that. So that is that.
That conversation took place well over fifty years ago. God was a lot more powerful back then. When I was young we always heard about the wrath of God. He wasn't anybody you wanted to mess with. Just about anything you did wrong was God getting back at you. If something bad happened to you or anyone you knew, it was Gods' fault. If you had done right, that wouldn't have happened. The bottom line was, you're not doing what God put you on earth to do. It was very frustrating because God works in mysterious ways. I knew that because that was what I was always told for an explanation. Why did this happen ? I went to church and said my prayers at night. Well, God works in mysterious ways. End of discussion.
I think God has mellowed somewhat over the years. I don't hear as much about hellfire and damnation as I used to. A lot of the time they are playing guitars and singing Christian rock at his house. Forgiveness is stressed more than punishment. The approach is a lot more laid back in my estimation. A little less formal. A sign of the times. Informality is stressed more than formality.
After all these years I still believe Grandma was right. God did put us on this earth for a reason. When our mission is complete,heaven is the reward. Man does have a penchant for messing things up. We always try to improve everything. Some things should just be left alone. If we all could just concentrate on doing the right thing how much better off would humanity be ? But God has given us free will, he sure does work in mysterious ways !

Maybe

I was thinking wouldn't it be great if we could just combine different eras in time. Take the best from all of them and make a new time. Like a lot of people that reach a certain age I have become nostalgic, longing for a time gone by. The time of my youth. A time when you could walk about at night unafraid of muggers. When you didn't have to lock your doors at night. Life was unhurried and people as a whole were a lot more polite.
Of course we didn't have the internet or Facebook. Would have to add that in. I could do without cell phones and smart phones but not Facebook, gotta have that.
What other things would you like to have have or not have. Color television is great but I really don't need big screen,high definition with surround sound. Microwave ovens, for heating things, is an essential. I'm still using a percolator type coffee pot so automatic drip or K-cup type coffee makers are not necessary. Digital cameras are mandatory.
In the larger picture though it is these very objects of progress that has caused all the changes. It is always supposed to be for the better. Doesn't always work out that way for everyone though. Too bad we don't get do overs. A chance to just take it back. To pick and choose ,so to speak. Maybe that is what heaven is all about. When you get there you get to pick and choose. Only the things and people you know and love will be there. I'll have Facebook and a cup of coffee. Write a blog about the things going on in heaven. It'll be great !

Preconceived

I had made a remark on a fellow bloggers post and was surprised to receive a response. She was asking for further elaboration on my offhand remark. I don't believe I hurt her feelings or caused any consternation , that was not the intent. But it was an eye opener for me. Like a lot of us I believe I am not prejudiced or stereotyping people. Truth is, I am. If you look the word prejudice up in the dictionary it says, a preconceived idea or opinion, usually unfavorable, about a person ,group, or race.
Now I don't think my opinion is this case was unfavorable, but it was definitely prejudiced. And the prejudice had nothing to do with race or ethnicity. The prejudice was in regard to a lifestyle. And I must admit I know nothing of this lifestyle but what I have read or seen on television. The thing is most of the writings were done by people not belonging to the group being written about and they surely didn't produce the television shows either.
This lifestyle choice has nothing to do with sexual orientation. A topic you hear about all the time nowadays. This lifestyle is a bit secretive. Anything kept private, is a secret to others. Sometimes we forget about that and that leads to preconceived ideas, hence the prejudice.
No, I don't think any harm was done. My prejudice in regard to this group is not of the malicious variety. Quite the opposite really. My curiosity about this group has only been heightened by this experience. This incident has made me realize I'm not quite as prejudice free as I had thought. I'll have to work on that.
By reading her blog posts I beginning to understand some things about this lifestyle. As with most everything it is not as cut and dried as one would expect. That is where the stereotyping comes in. Although each unit identifies with a central belief, the practice and execution of that belief varies widely. What applies to one does not necessarily apply to another. Things are rarely as we see them.
I'm glad for this little eye opener. I'm getting older and we all know how old people can get set in their ways. I hope to prevent that from happening to me. I can't stop the aging process on a physical level but I can strive to keep my mind open and working ! My opinion of this particular group has already been altered. I now know I really know nothing about it. Most of what I do know is probably not very accurate and almost all of it highlights the positive side. I would like to see the negative side as well. The pros and cons as it were.
I have chosen to not spell out what this lifestyle choice is. I'm sure some of my readers will know instantly what I'm talking about. To those that may not, it really makes little difference. The point is, Prejudice isn't always malicious. Anytime we presume to know the mind of another, whether it be an individual or group, the door to prejudice is opened. Ignorance breeds prejudice. 

Questioning

I awoke feeling a little philosophical. Wondering about expectations and where I fit into the whole picture. I expect we all do that from time to time. Life, indeed human existence, is part of a much larger machine. It cannot be all random and fate, Surely there is a guiding force. But it is not the existence of God that I question, nor his plans, no I wonder about expectations. I expect certain things from myself, my wife expects certain things, my children, my grandchildren and society as a whole. That's a lot of expecting !
It is not a conscious effort of my part to fulfill these expectations, at least not most of the time, only when I have to get out of bed in the morning. Rather we all go through life with this awareness and I believe an inner resolve to fulfill our obligations. We are happy when we do and sad when we don't. Add to that whether or not our own expectations are met. These expectations are as important to our happiness and well being as the expectations of others.
To put it simply, doing the right thing. Someone said," All the world is a stage and each us must play a part." Shakespeare, if memory serves. He described the various roles we will play in our lives but the question to me is, is the part already written ? Can we, by our actions or lack thereof change the script ?
These are a few of the questions I awoke with. Now to go forth and face the day. I'm thinking it will be a good one.

Experience

My grand son has been invited to attend the Junior Leaders of America on a week long field trip to the nations capital. One of two children nominated by the faculty of Greensboro elementary for this honor. The criteria is based upon his academic achievements and leadership potential. I couldn't be prouder. He is eleven and in just twenty four years will be eligible for the Presidency. Won't hurt to get a head start on that.
It will a terrific experience for him. The company providing the service also supplies the chaperons. No parents or guardians in attendance. Mark will be fine. He attends a church camp every year and has grown accustomed to being away from home. He is like a sponge when it comes to learning new things and enjoying new experiences. He will be attentive and engaged. That is his personality.
He has begun a fund raising campaign to obtain spending money. He is selling candy bars. With the spring weather here, he will also be available for yard work. I have a few friends that will employ him. That will also be an excellent experience for him. I think it is terrific.
He will be attending lectures and visiting museums. I believe they get to go to the White house. A trip to the floor of the senate is also on the list. The days will be long. He will be full of stories when he returns home. An experience to last a lifetime. I don't know who is more excited, him or me.

The Postcard

On the back of an old postcard I read this salutation, " Dear Papa. " Written in pencil but still clearly visible it goes on to say," When are you coming home. I miss you so much. We are going to have a surprise for you when you come home. From your loving daughter,Cara."
The loving daughter was my paternal grandmother. She wrote those words on that card on August 21,1914. That was four days before her tenth birthday. She mailed it to her Papa, my Great Grandfather. He saved that card all his life. Why he was away from home I do not know. I do know where he was. He was in a place called Montauk. In 1914 there wasn't much in Montauk. I know they raised cattle there and grazed their other animals on the plains. A light house stands on Montauk point. It was there then and still stands today. It is a distance of twenty miles from his home. The home where my grandmother was waiting for his return. She says she misses him and I wonder how long he had been gone. And a surprise was planned. I found it interesting that it was only days until her birthday and no mention of that. The surprise was to be for him.
This postcard is the only thing I have from Grandmother. Exactly ten years and twenty eight days later she passed away. Ninety eight years later I read her words and wonder. She was just twenty four years old. She left this world the day after giving birth to my father. I'm sure my great grandfather and great grandmother missed her very much. My dad lived with them and was raised by them. A few faded photographs and this postcard was all he had of his mother.
This postcard has confirmed my desire to write my words down. A not quite ten year old girl once wrote a postcard to her father. She could not have known just how far that little card would travel. A one cent stamp sent it a long way. I don't know much about her but I know she called her father Papa. That must have been the fashion in 1914. Somehow I always thought of immigrants using that term of endearment. They certainly weren't that. And in another sense I feel the presence of my grandmother. Strange but I do feel a connection. A connection to the written word. That postcard wasn't much more than a " tweet " but it is a treasure to me.
I wonder if any of my writings and ramblings will hold as much meaning as her salutation, " Dear Papa."
Only time will tell.

Getting Comfortable

I read a friends blog and was inspired to write one of my own. The subject matter is the same. It concerns how people change over time. You know, how a person that may have been carefree and jovial in their youth has become sour and depressed. Or the wall flower that blossomed. We all change over time. Or do we ?
I'm thinking that perhaps it is just that we become comfortable with ourselves. When we no longer try to fit in, or impress. When we can finally begin to shed our skins so to speak.
I believe our personalities are well formed by the time we reach our teenage years. Our basic core values and beliefs are there. However, in our early years we often disguise them. Be it a lack of confidence or a reluctance to buck popular trends we sometimes don't reveal ourselves. Some behaviors may not appear manly or feminine enough. After a certain age it begins to go away. For everyone that happens at a different time and never happens at all for a few.
There are certain activities that I enjoy now, that I would have been reluctant to share back in the day. Writing poetry for one. Doing some sewing projects is another example. I've heard that described as " getting in touch with your feminine side " but that's bull hockey ! Nothing feminine about me and never will be. Still, I enjoy what I enjoy. Being sensitive and understanding is another description I would have been mortified to have been associated with. Today not so much.
Yes I'm thinking once you strip away the facade the real you emerges. You just become comfortable. Like a good pair of shoes you have been walked in,on and through just about everything. Some of the stuff sticks and some you just scrape off. You may become a little scuffed and dull.
Of course there is always the possibility that my fellow blogger is correct. You might just get run down and worn out. Past comfortable and into the worn out region. It's a fine line.

Be it ever so Humble

Yesterday was a good day. The sun was shinning and the breeze was warm. An unhurried morning. I fiddled with a little project I had been working on. Gouged the end of my finger with a wood chisel and set that project aside. Afterwards I decided upon another project I had in mind. So I took a leisurely stroll to the Family Dollar store. It is only about a mile or so up the road and is a pleasant enough walk. You have to cross the river to get there and the view is very nice. Looking downriver you can see the trees starting to green up and people fishing on the banks. The traffic is light on a Sunday afternoon in Greensboro.
I made my purchase. I selected a butterfly print vinyl tablecloth. Very colorful and cheery. I had in mind modifying this tablecloth to fit my round patio table. It may seem odd that I would be planning a sewing project. Not so. I do most of the sewing in my house. Learned that from doing upholstery and watching the girls there. As I checked out the cashier says to me, " very manly tablecloth." I just smiled at this young lady and said something like, yeah I guess so. Not going to spoil my good mood young lady I thought to myself. And I walked back home satisfied.
My wife got the sewing machine out the closet for me. She is very supportive in that regard. Naturally she was curious as to exactly what I had in mind. After measuring and marking I cut the material. Getting comfortable at the sewing machine I began to sew it together. I was going along quite nicely when I discovered that the bobbin had run out. No problem, just wind another. That done I got back to the task. It didn't take that long and I was done. Now for the moment of truth. I took it outside and tried it. It fit ! Hooray, and it looks good too. My wife agreed that it looks great. Another three dollars and fifty cents well spent.
As were outside admiring my handiwork I took a good look around. The sun was starting to set and the breeze was still gently blowing. My American flag was lifting in that breeze and the whole scene seemed so serene. I took a picture,as I often do.
Be it ever so humble,there's no place like home. Payne was right on the mark with that line and God bless America.

Going too far

I'm thinking things are going a little too far. The Maryland legislature is attempting to pass a bill making it a crime to smoke inside your vehicle if there is a child under the age of six in the vehicle. I understand the intent.
Just how the police are supposed to enforce this law has not been explained. I suppose it will fall into the category of a secondary offense. As if the government needed additional reasons to fine us. And just where will this lead. I can see children suing their parents for smoking in the car. What about in their homes ? Maybe we should include that in this bill as well.
What is it they say, " the road to hell is paved with good intentions. " This bill, along with a host of others already imposed upon us, falls into that category. It is not the duty of government to legislate personal behaviors. Inform us poor,uneducated taxpayers the hazards of certain behaviors perhaps, but not impose their will upon us. There is a fine line between governing and dictating.
I see it this way. On the one hand government wants to approve certain behaviors, that if the truth was told the majority object too, and impose civil and criminal penalties upon us for non compliance. While on the other restrict our choices to meet their agendas. Much like the missionaries of old. I will convert you to Christianity if I have to kill you doing it !
I believe you can agree with an idea or philosophy and still not support it. Or more properly, tolerate it. Tolerance doesn't necessarily imply consent. And the imposition of your views or beliefs on others should be dependent upon their good sense and judgement, rather than as a matter of law. It would be a fools task to attempt to write that many laws.
I don't what group or person instituted this current bill. I question their agenda.

Finishing Up

Apparently I have inherited a specific gene from my Dad. The, I never quite finish the project gene. I'm terrific at thinking up the projects, pretty good at getting going on them but the finishing part is always a little shaky. Most projects do reach the 95% complete phase. Mom always teased Dad about that very same thing. Even when Dad sold our childhood home there were pieces of molding and trim still missing. Not much that is was really noticeable, but we all knew.
I have several projects in the works right now. Some in the beginning phases and others that could use that finishing touch. I'll get around to it. That's what I always say, but rarely do. I'm quite aware of this trait but figure you can't fight karma ! This gene is a part of my makeup. If I'm doing something for pay or for another this isn't the case. Then the job will be complete. That is an obligation. My own projects I am under no such obligation.
I do think this gene is also reasonable for another trait. I have yet to find one particular thing to focus upon. That singular hobby or occupation. My interests are many and varied. Carpentry and mechanics. Writing . Just all kinds of stuff. I guess it would be like in the old days with a doctor, I would have been a General Practitioner, not a specialist. One subject doesn't hold my interest for that long. I'm always wandering off the path. A jack of all trades and master at none,as they say. In today's world that isn't a good thing. Today we all go for the specialist ! If we want something we usually go for the " professional " grade. The more degrees one can obtain, the better. Was a time when degrees didn't matter as much as results. Times change.
Again I wander off the path. I was talking about finishing the job. I have decided to make an effort to break this cycle. I will finish these projects,100%. It is not going to be easy. Excuses are very easy to formulate. I must just do it ! Like those Nike commercials. Just do It ! 

St. Patrick

Tomorrow we celebrate St. Patrick's day. Saint Patrick is the man who legend says chased all the snakes out of Ireland with his shillelagh. At least that what I was told. How the green beer got involved with a Saint I'm not sure. There was a day when I looked forward to drinking some of that and celebrating, but those days are behind me now. Sure'n I've been to many a fine St. Patty's day parade and celebration.
I do find it amusing that everyone wants to be Irish on that particular day. I do wonder why all the negative stereotyping of the Irish is accepted,even embraced, you might say. I'm thinking if we tried to celebrate other ethnic groups by stereotyping their lifestyle we would be met with resistance. Judging by tomorrows activities all the Irish drink huge quantities of beer and eat corn beef and cabbage. Then they love to fist fight with one another. They all wear derby hats. It certainly isn't a flattering image.
On the surface it is a good time for all. Parades and parties. This all arrived with the influx of the Irish during the great potato famine. We all know the Irishmen became the police department in New York. They were used to dealing with drunks and fighting. The billy club isn't really much different than a shillelagh. At least that is the perception.
I will leave it you,the reader, to write the next part of this narrative. Imagine we created celebrations for some of the other ethnic groups in our fair land. What would they be like ? We all know certain groups are noted for their drug use and economic standing. Other groups have different customs from their homeland that perhaps we could celebrate and embrace. You get the idea. I am too politically correct to spell it out. But I can't help but think what an uproar it would create. The Irish are indeed a forgiving and tolerate people. An entire holiday devoted to pretty much making fun of them.
It is all in good fun. No harm and no foul. We all have a little bit of the Irish in us. So celebrate. I've got my cabbage. Greensboro doesn't have a St. Patricks day parade. I'm not sure where the closet one is but then there aren't that many Irish in these parts. We do have an Irish public house in Denton, the county seat. It's a fine tradition and St. Patrick was a fine man ! Now if we only get him to drive all the mosquitoes out of Caroline county we would have a parade to celebrate that ! 

Set in Stone

Back in the day before you needed surveys,building permits and environmental impact studies, if a man wanted to build something,he built it. My father had already added a second story to our house. Then he decided a basement was in order. So it was, get the shovels, boys ! My brothers and I were Dads' heavy equipment.
Choosing a spot in the center rear of the house we began to dig. First down and forward until we reached the foundation. Breaking through that obstacle we began to form the basement. Digging to a depth of about seven feet. The dirt was carried out a water pail full at a time and dumped in the back yard. The rocks,and there were numerous, were placed in a separate pile. Now this house was on Long Island. The Island, the geologists say, was formed by glacial debris. Seemed like more rock than dirt to me.
Almost daily for quite a long period of time we dug. We dug after school. We dug on the weekends. We dug in teams and sometimes we dug alone. I was young and did more carrying out of dirt and rocks than digging. There was an occasion when my two brothers were digging together. One had undermined a side wall and it collapsed onto the other. There was a frantic minute or two while he dug him out of there. Could have been a disaster but luckily the Lord was on our side. When a basement half the size of the house had been completed,that was it. A concrete floor was poured and block walls erected. No windows.
Sometime later, a few years I think, Dad decided to make an entrance to the basement from the laundry room. This required breaking through the foundation once again. By this time my brothers had moved out and moved on. It was left to me. Using a large sledge hammer I began to chip away. I remember doing it and it wasn't too bad. Didn't take all that long. We now had a way to enter the basement from inside the house. I thought it was pretty cool.
Over time all the dirt that was removed from that hole was spread throughout the back yard. The rocks were used to build a barbecue and stone retaining wall. The cover of the septic tank was extended and that was the patio out back. That retaining wall wrapped around from the barbecue to the rear of the patio. A series of small pools, one draining into the next by gravity, eventually emptied into a small pond. The plan was to pump the water from the pond to the top pond and keep it circulating in that fashion. As far as I know that never happened. The project was never fully completed.
Years later, after the house had been sold, I went back for a visit. The current owner was kind enough to let me look around. I went into that back yard and was shocked. It was gone ! All of it was gone. The barbecue,the small pools, the retaining walls and the patio itself. I couldn't believe it. At one time all that was lined with flower beds and benches built right into a railing. Now it was just a pile of dirt. No grass was even growing there.
I don't have any pictures of this. Another case of taking things for granted. Mom may have taken some snapshots but they got lost over time. Only myself and my siblings remember this. Oh,Mom does too. What a shame it was all lost to time. If I were a artist I'd paint a picture of it but that talent eludes me. Well, that was all a long time ago. Even something that was " set in stone " didn't last forever. Still it was a wonderful thing it its' day.

Seeking Shelter

When I was in grade school we would have air raid drills. This was during the cold war. There was a general fear that Russia would bomb us at any time. This was only fifteen years or so after we had bombed Japan. The devastation caused by those devices was so complete it remained in the country's conscience. The fear was real.
I remember clearly the siren going off and the teacher instructing us to duck and cover. If you were in the classroom you got under your desk. Desks were made a lot better back then and would protect you from a nuclear bomb. No doubt about it. Just make sure you keep your eyes closed.
I was thinking about this the other day. When we were kids they told us all about it. There were civil defense signs on the buildings. We were told that those " commies " might try to bomb us. We had to be ready. Some people even built bomb shelters. I really don't think the majority of the people had any real fear that this would happen. The " shelter builders " were just a few in number proportionately. My own Dad told me that if they dropped one of those on us no shelter was going to help. He hadn't seen it first hand, but had seen the pictures afterward. He was resigned to the fact that if they dropped a bomb on us, we were goners ! Period.
Looking back it is amazing to think that the government endorsed all this. Did the government really believe that those shelters would be of any real practical value ? Or was it an attempt to soothe a nation ? Really, I think it was our government trying to justify our use of such a weapon. Out of guilt we considered the possibility they could be used on us. I think, following the Cuban missile crisis, this kinda changed. I could be wrong because I haven't done any research on this subject but that is my perception. I think once we realized missiles would be used and not dropped  bombs we stopped building bomb shelters and hiding under our desks.
It was a different world back then. Political correctness wasn't top priority. We all knew the " commies " were the threat and we said so. The Japanese and Koreans needed watching  too. America was the leader and we were right. We all knew that,the world knew that. Try to bomb us and we will hide under our desks,sure. But after, we will come out from there and man are you in trouble !

Remember This ?

Hello Spring

Yesterday evening at about 5:30 I was sitting at my computer. It was quite warm outside and I had opened a window. I had to raise the storm window and lower the screen. First time that had been done in a while. The fresh air and slight breeze was pleasant. That's when it struck me. It is spring ! The day before had been rather cold and damp feeling but today, just like that, it was spring.
Not that we have had much of what you would call winter this year. I did see a snowflake or two and the cats water dish was frozen a time or two. All in all winter just sorta got skipped. I'm not complaining about that, it does wonders for the electric bill when your heating is electric. Also saves me from having to move to Florida. Being a native New Yorker that is almost inevitable though. In the last few years I hear the Carolinas are becoming the new Florida.
While watching the news they had a piece on bugs. A bug expert was telling us how the bugs never really went away this year. They have already seen deer ticks and such moving about. There is concern about stink bugs and mosquitoes. So before the season can really get going their are those that are complaining. Too bad they can't use all the salt piled up in the salt domes to control bugs. I'll be satisfied if the warm weather doesn't bring any of the violent storms other parts of the country have been having.
So now it is time to service the lawn mower. Clean up the yard and till the garden. No more coming home to rest after work. I'll have other chores to attend to. Daylight is a burnin'. Don't know why they say this is daylight saving time because really we are using it up. It'll be light out until almost 9pm before long.
Time sure is going faster. Winter is gone and spring is here. Just like that !

Advertise

Am I the only one that has noticed Doctors and Hospitals advertising for business ? The drug companies have been hard at it for awhile but lately it just seems like hospitals are competing for your business. The ads usually start with asking you some medical questions. Do you have a hernia ? Come to this hospital and we can fix it through a very small incision. Got cancer ? There are several advertising their expertise in that area.
We are all aware of the rising cost of health care. One of the primary causes of this expense is the insurance doctors and hospitals must carry. Now I'm thinking the cost of advertising must be factored in. I can't help but wonder if this advertising is necessary. Aren't there enough people in need of care ?
It all just strikes me a bit odd. Doctors are supposed to be there to help you in time of need. Should they be advertising ? Hospitals the same way. Making this most honorable of callings into just a money making proposition leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It is akin to listening to a used car salesman. I don't trust them.
It all comes off as more of a sales pitch for services that may or may not be necessary.
Just another part of this changing world I suppose. Growing up I didn't have many choices. I lived in a rural area. One hospital within a reasonable distance. You went with whatever Doctor was available. Now the choices are many. But with these choices come additional expenses. And with additional expense comes the need for more business to remain solvent. And how to get this business ? Advertise. And the best method of advertising seems to be to play to your mortality. Come use our hospital and live ! Make another choice and you may not. That is the bottom line with these advertisers.
I don't know I just don't like it.

Testing

This week is the Maryland State Assessment exams. This testing will show the health of the school system. It is a big deal here and I'm sure everywhere else as well. School funds depend upon the results. Teacher assessments too. What a stressful times for students and teachers.
I'm not so sure it is a good thing. The results may or may not be completely accurate. I know that at least for some the students it is a time of anxiety. My Grand Children are quite nervous about the whole process. The teachers are stressing how important positive results are. The pressure is on. Incentives are being offered for good scores and withheld for poor. I'm thinking the message may be getting a little mixed.
I understand the necessity of the testing. Some method of measurement must be employed. A lot depends upon the results. Money ! It is almost always money that is a driving force. The rest is just rhetoric. I just question whether we should be subjecting our children to this stress. Would not results over a longer period of time be a more accurate tool. One where the children don't feel so much stress to succeed.
I could argue just as easily the other point of view. This test prepares them for real life. The pressure to succeed. To impress upon them the importance of education. Rewarding positive results and punishing the negative. This testing is an important tool for educators. In this way they can know where to focus their skills and abilities. The curriculum can be adjusted to focus on problem areas. And most importantly funds can be obtained to maintain the level of service already there or possibly obtain additional resources.
As a Grand parent however I just don't like it. I think we are subjecting the children to unnecessary stress and anxiety. It is enough for them to deal with the social pressures and educational demands already placed upon them. Is it fair to subject them to this in an effort to obtain funds ? And the pressure is real. I have a paper issued from the school that clearly shows what positive results will get you. It also clearly shows that these same incentives will be withheld should the student fail to perform. Other than report cards I have not seen any other occasion when this has been employed.
I suppose it is just that Grandpa feels just as anxious as they do. The kids will be fine. I wish them all the best of luck. I can't wait for this to be over with. The stress is too much !

On the Shelf

I've been thinking about closing the book on the family tree. I have been working on that project for years now and I'm finally satisfied. I have discovered the who,and where of my ancestors. Many were unknown to the family. There are still a few mysteries to be solved but I feel like I've exhausted my resources. In one sense I hate to leave the job undone but in another I can rest with what I have accomplished.
The only real question remaining is what to do with the data I have collected. The list of names and relationships is extensive. The number of photographs are as well. I have collected stories and anecdotes. It is all available online. It is recorded in standard genealogists format. It is informative but not a very entertaining format. The standard tree thing. I would like to present it in way that may be more entertaining. I don't know what that would be exactly,but I'll have to think on that. I realize that not everyone finds this subject as fascinating as I do. Most just have a passing fancy. It is fun to know who your direct ancestors were or anyone of fame that is in your family. Beyond that I have found most have little interest.
I'm thinking I'll close the book on my tree. But now I'm thinking I need to start a new chapter. Perhaps I could show the relationship my family members had to the community at large. Fortunately the community where most resided was a small community. And mostly confined to a small geographic area. It has only been in later years,after World War Two, that they spread to other regions. That may prove interesting to a larger audience. I'll have to think about that.
My most immediate need however is how to save the data I already have. I could just do a digital download. That is fairly inexpensive and quite straightforward. The only problem with that is that you would have to have the program to read the data. I have the program of course, but others would not. It is not like it is Adobe Acrobat or anything, it is a specific program. To have the whole thing printed would be quite a large expense.
It is saved online and I'll have to go with that for now.
The bottom line here is this, I'm thinking about closing the book but really want something tangible before I do. I want to hold all that work and research in my hands. The satisfaction of having it all in print. That would make it permanent. I want it all to be just sitting there on the shelf ready to be read or browsed by anyone at anytime. Knowledge, of any kind, does little good if not accessible. And the ease of accessibility is very important. The Internet has been a blessing in that regard, that can't be denied. But for me, a book on the shelf is still preferred. 

Batter Up

Went to the first practice of this years Little League season. Aw, to hear the crack of the bat and the sound of the ball hitting leather. Spirits are high and so are expectations. The coaches are in place and the process has begun. The formation of a team. It is like watching a birth. You can never be sure but hope for the best. Whatever you get,you love it ! And the boys are looking good.
We have moved up a notch since last year. More fundamentals being stressed and proper execution. The atmosphere is a little more serious. Time to stop fooling around boys. From here on out the balance is a delicate one. You should play the game for the love of the game but winning is important. As in life, success is important. But one should achieve success through hard work,dedication and doing the right thing.
I'm leaning on the fence and watching closely. These old eyes watching every move. I can smell the dust of the infield and feel that same anticipation. Ready to react to the ball at the crack of the bat. Been over forty years since I played ball but you never forget. All the instructions rolling through my mind. Get your glove down, palm up, get square with the ball, don't rush, set your feet and throw. I feel the satisfaction of a play well turned and the sting of disappointment when it isn't.
I'm a man of tradition. I love baseball. It is Americas sport. Say what you want about football and Nascar I'll take baseball any day. The boys of spring and hope springs eternal. I think it is going to be a great season. I'm betting my grandson makes great strides this year. It's going to be a little tougher this year. I can't wait for the home opener !

Moral Fabric

I've written about this before, but continue to think about it. The wearing of jeans by the presidential candidates and indeed by the president. When I was young we called them Blue jeans. At some point they were dungarees. But always worn by the working class people. Then that changed and they became popular. The price skyrocketed. Designer Jeans were all the rage. This continues to this day, albeit on a limited scale. My Grand daughter talks about skinny jeans and super skinny jeans. And I have noticed a return to buying jeans with holes and fading included. I know it is all about style. But now I'm thinking I see a correlation here. I probably should apply for a government grant to study this but will just do it as a service to the community. I'm thinking the wearing of jeans directly correlates with the moral fabric of the country ! Think about it.
You could say it started with James Dean and the wild bunch. Wearing blue jeans with the cuffs rolled up and a tee shirt riding a motorcycle. This movie portrayed this" public menace" as being misunderstood and a sad case. Barney Fife was right, we should have nipped it in the bud right then ! Following that we had the hippies. Dressed in denim, as they called it, and using mind altering drugs. Free love, nothing more than promiscuous behavior, communes and the beginnings of socialism in this country.
Later the " beautiful people " started wearing them. The designer jeans became all the rage. Skin tight,flares,boot cut,relaxed fit,straight legged,stone washed,bell bottomed and a host of others. Blue jeans have now been worn to the Oscars,Grammys and every other award show. You see them at funerals and weddings. And now all the presidential candidates are strutting around in them.
One need only take a good look at the country to know we have gone down a slippery slope. The country's moral fabric has definitely changed. At one time our country was in a Tuxedo. An example to the world. Now we are reduced to wearing blue jeans.

That's why Girls aren't Medics

Just a little embarrassing story from my past. This would have been about 1963 of 4. At the end of the dirt road where I lived there was a rental house. At this time a family named Hulse lived there. There was a boy my own age,Teddy, and his sister.The sister,whose name escapes me now, was quite a bit older. I struck up a friendship with Teddy and we played together all the time. Our favorite thing at this time was playing Army. Teddy and I battled the Germans and Japanese for hours on end. We fought them in the woods.We fought them in the open fields. We fought them inside the house. Almost always we fought alone. On one occasion however his older sister was home and joined in. That is where the situation developed.
We had been engaged in a protracted struggle for control of the blockhouse.( His Bedroom). It was an epic battle. I was attempting to make the final charge when I was wounded ! It was a serious head wound and needed immediate medical attention. Teddy was hollering for a medic when his sister appeared on the scene. We agreed she was no medic but a nurse would have to do. Remember this is 1963 medics are men. And so she played along with our little game. I managed to crawl to the aid station ( her bedroom). Then this nurse,this angel of mercy, tended my wound. She applied a bandage to the wound. Direct pressure works best for stopping the lose of blood. And just what did she use for a bandage ? Yup, a sanitary napkin ! I had no idea what this objects' primary function was. Never gave it a thought truth be told. Figured every aid station had these things. At any rate I was back in action.
Just about the time I returned to the battle field I heard the General calling. ( Mom). No matter what the situation when the General calls ,you answer. So off I went at a dead run for home. I could see Mom standing on the front porch waving at me to hurry up. As I raced into the front yard Mom starts saying,what do have on your, but never finishes the sentence ! Instead she starts hollering, get that off your head,get inside the house,right now ! I was puzzled. What did I do ? I came right when she called. I hadn't done anything but apparently I'm in trouble for something.
All that was ever said after that was for me to never put that on my head again. When I asked why, I got the standard answer,because I said so. Didn't make much sense to me but I could tell Mom was upset.
It was some years later before I knew the "rest of the story." Aw, well things happen. Did the " Nurse " think it was funny ? Probably. Guess she had a laugh at my expense. That's why Girls aren't medics !

Sustainability

I recently became a member of the Greensboro historical society. In some circles known as the " hysterical " society. I believe I am the youngest member at the age of 58. We have a few projects in the works but like most organizations today, funds can be an issue. They have an annual Golf Tournament that is the primary fundraiser.
One of our members attended a Small Museum Conference in Ocean City, Maryland. This was a three day event and many experts in the field were there giving lectures. This member was sharing some of her newly acquired knowledge. In fact, she had purchased a series of handbooks called The Small Museum Toolbox. These handbooks outline steps and procedures for maintaining a small museum. The one thing mentioned was sustainability.Included in that was the age of your members. Apparently our age grouping does not fall into the sustainable category !
When I turned fifty I got those mailings for AARP. Following that, some stores offer Senior discounts. I can look in the mirror and see the gray. A few age spots have appeared on my skin. I really knew I was getting older when my barber asked me if I wanted my eyebrows trimmed. But now I'm not sustainable ? Reading the realities can be harsh. What a cold analytic statement that is, Sustainability
After the meeting was over I gave this some thought. In the bigger picture I suppose you could say I was a small museum myself. All my memories,stories and some things in my possession.I have things from my Dad. His World War Two medals for instance. To him they weren't historic artifacts, but they are to his Great Grandchildren. Old photographs are another. We all live with history every day. After all, yesterday is history. So, I was thinking about sustainability. I am very fortunate to have Grandchildren. According to the handbook sustainability can be achieved through younger membership. If I wish to be sustained I need to include the younger people. I've already been doing that. Not that they always enjoy it, but I'm always telling them about history. I write this blog and have had a portion of them published in book form. They can read that in future years. I'm doing the family tree. All this information being recorded. All of this has become increasingly important to me over the last few years. I wasn't aware of it, but I've been working on my sustainability !
I've said it before and I will repeat it. We all want to be remembered. We will all one day leave this earth. That is a fact that cannot be avoided. But, we can be sustainable. Through our children,Grandchildren, friends and acquaintances. Pass your own youth to the younger generations. Surrender your memories and share them. Write them down. Record them. Video them. Do whatever you feel comfortable with. Those around you may not appreciate them right now, but do not be deterred. Your sustainability depends upon it. 

Two cents worth

The other day I was listening to some oldies,as I'm prone to do, and Bob Dylan was singing the Times they are a changin'. I couldn't help but think how relevant that tune is even today. The times certainly are a changin'. The news was on and I happened to catch a small piece about the school system in Baltimore city. Like the majority of public schools in the country today they are having financial difficulties. Teacher salaries,administrative costs and building maintenance were being discussed. When the budget was analyzed and expenses tallied a surprising thing was now plainly evident. By far the largest expenditure had been on Police presence in the school. Regular time plus overtime added up to more than any teachers salary or any other support personal.
Whoa ! The times they are a changin' for sure. We have arrived at a point in this country were we have to have police protection in our schools to try and maintain discipline. I've known that for awhile but didn't realize that more funds went to that than to actually educating the children. Am I the only one that thinks their is a problem here ? How did this come to be ? As an aside the top dog administrator, Dr. Alonzo has a personal driver. His driver made more than he did last year. And we are talking well over six figures here. The Dr. gets a 750 dollar a month stipend for transportation costs. Talk about an administration out of control.
All this has come to light because the city wants to impose an additional bottle tax. An extra two cents per bottle of soda sold. A reporter did some checking into this. How this has gone unnoticed and unchecked this long speaks volumes. Surely they are quite a few that were aware of this. The accountants and others involved in disbursements. None of these individuals said anything.
A pretty sad state of affairs if you ask me. Bad enough to have to have police in the schools. A shame that the buildings are shabby and in need of serious repairs. Tragic that our educators are so poorly paid. But it is a travesty when the Police and a chauffeur earn the largest salaries ! The mayor and all the other politicians are always talking about " the children." We need this bottle tax to increase revenue for " the children." The reality is more like, give me more money and the children can take the hindmost !
Yes, the times they are a changin' Bob and not for the better.  

Meeting Father

I was talking with an old childhood friend the other day. He was relating a tale about my father to me. They had an occasion when they were both hospitalized. While there, they had long conversations to pass the time of day. I was away,off in the Navy. I remarked to my friend how I had never had the chance to really sit and talk with Dad, man to man like. This friend of mine could relate to that because he had lost his own father when he was just eight years old. He went on to tell me that sometime later Dad stopped at his house and presented him with a" flight bag."  My father had carried this flight bag while flying over Burma in World War Two. Why he chose to give that to him is a mystery.
After having this chat with my  friend I continued to think about this. A longing came over me. I wish I could have talked with Dad is his later years. Or more properly, mine. To have discussions with him on equal footing. Not as Father to Son but as one man to another. What insights to this man might I have gained. I think I caught glimpses of the man over the years. His close friends told me some tales from his youth. But I never had the opportunity to really get to know him. It sounds a little strange,I know, but all I ever really knew was the Father. Under that suit of " Father " there was a man. Would I have liked that man ? I'm thinking I would have.
Once,when I was eighteen or so, we did stop at a local bar and share a beer. Yes,it was legal. I had heard stories about this particular establishment that bordered on the mythic. I remember walking in there with Dad and he said Hello to the barkeep like they were old friends. Several others at the bar also said HI. Dad said give us a couple beers ! Pride swelled within me. I was introduced to the bar keeper. She was also the owner. We stood side by side. On his stomping grounds. Two men having a beer. We stayed long enough for one beer and went home. An hour I'll never forget. It is more moments like that, that I'm wishing we could have shared.
I have boys of my own. I've had to think about this. Wonder if they feel the same way ? And then I'm left with a question. Just when should I lower the cloak of Father ? I suppose I really should have done that already. They are both full grown with children of their own. Yet I still find myself attempting to influence them. Playing the " I'm your Father card " really hasn't had any real effect in years, but there is always the guilt trip !
And finally, and this is a big one, do I want to expose myself to their scrutiny ? To show them the truth behind the man. It is a risk. They may or may not like the man. It could change the dynamic altogether. It is a lot to consider.

Drama and the Unknown

Today are tryouts for little league. My Grandson will be on the field. This will be the first year where he is not guaranteed a spot. Growing up. He has reached that level. All his coaches from years past are not coaching this year either. I'm nervous. I'm concerned. He is just an average player. What if he doesn't get selected ? I can't take it. It is so much harder being a Grandfather. With my own I could handle those possibilities but this is different. He is my grandson !
Sure, I can see the potential there, but what about others. Those coaches may not be aware of his talent. Just needs a little polish and practice. He is a team player. He is loyal and will show up to the games. He will put forth his maximum effort. He listens well and will apply the lessons taught. I'm thinking I need to have a talk with this coaching panel. Perhaps they could benefit from some of my insights. I've been watching these kids play since their T-Ball days.
Well,once we get through that today we have the soccer tournament. Mark's team has an excellent chance of winning it all. He usually plays goalie and does a great job at that. Of course he will play all positions before the game is done. That's the way it works out. Give everyone a chance. It's fair and makes for more exciting play. Soccer isn't as important to me. I want him to succeed but it is not like it's baseball ! I have to remember it is not about me. I tend to lose sight of that once in awhile.
Man, no one told me raising Grandchildren was this much work. The stress level is high. I wonder why.
When I was raising my own I didn't feel this much stress. And it was closer to the time that I had gone through it all myself. It should have been easier for me to empathize with them. Yet somehow I was a little more distant from their feelings. Now that it is the Grandchildren, and I'm many years removed from all that, I'm feeling their pain and angst ! What's up with that ? I've heard it said that Grandchildren keep you young. Couldn't prove it by me. I get more gray hairs and wrinkles every time I have to watch them go through this kind of stuff !
It will be an action packed weekend that much is sure. Drama and the unknown. 

Self Serving

I've been writing this blog for awhile now. It has become some what of a habit. My day doesn't seem right until I've posted something. Sometimes it is easy and others it is a strain. Yet I somehow feel almost compelled to do it. Often I wonder if anyone finds my comments useful,amusing or just the ramblings of a madman. I occasionally receive comments and always appreciate that.
Over this time I have figured some things out. People generally like nostalgia.Write about old things or the old days and it is favorable. If you include a picture that also helps. The one thing I have noticed more than anything else is this; tell people what they already know. People reading articles or blogs tend to like having their own opinions and beliefs reaffirmed. It is just human nature I suppose. We all like people to agree with us. I'm certainly no exception. When I get a comment that may be a little negative I tend to make excuses. They must not have understood completely what I was saying. Sometimes I know it is my fault I should have explained more fully. I wonder why it is I don't assume I may be wrong. Now that's a different concept ! LOL
Each morning, and I generally write this thing first thing , I sit at my desk and sip my coffee. Sometimes I know exactly what I want to write about and others I sit for awhile thinking. Each time I'm hoping to write something of interest or at the very least give someone a chuckle. I'm certainly hoping I don't sound too foolish or condescending. I hate condescending ! Then I try to not be too controversial. I don't want to sound like a nut ! Maybe it is too late for that but as long as people continue reading I guess that's alright.
I have found that putting your thoughts or memories in print can alter your own perceptions. What sounded good in my head doesn't come out the same on paper. Writing it out forces you to explain a little more fully. I think I have gained some insight into certain areas of my life by this process. It is a good thing. There is probably some therapist out there charging hundreds,if not thousands, of dollars to have you do just that.
Writing therapy ! I'd better get a patent on that concept.
I have reached a conclusion. All authors write out of a self serving desire. I write this blog because I enjoy writing it, that is true. But I also enjoy the comments I receive. No matter how many or how few. I feel a sense of satisfaction or I feel reaffirmed ! If I could not publish this on the internet and reach an " audience " would I still write it ? Probably not. I need the encouragement. I wonder what other authors motives are. Especially the famous ones. Did they write for fame ? Did they write for fortune ? Was it their plan all along or did it just happen that way ? I started writing this as a means of recording my thoughts and memories for future generations. I thought,and still do, that it would be a great thing for the Grandchildren to have to possibly share with their children. These are the words of Great Grandfather. Not stories about him but his words. That was my original motivation. Now I'm thinking I'm doing it more for myself than anyone else.
Hmm. I'm human after all.

The best things

I wonder why, after you reach a certain age, the best things are the ones that are just the way you remembered.
I like my radio to sound the way it did twenty years ago. All this modern high definition radio (whatever the heck that is ) doesn't sound the same.I want a grilled cheese sandwich. White bread,yellow american cheese with a little extra grease. I want plain coffee. Just coffee. No latte,mocha or any other strange sounding stuff. Folgers or Maxwell house will do just fine. Classic roast.
Like everyone else I have had to try all the new stuff.  I was sure some improvements had to have been made. Even embraced them at one time or another. Similar to keeping up with the latest fashions. Why we ever thought Leisure Suits were a good idea I'm not sure but we did. But soon these things go by the wayside. My old blue jeans and a tee shirt are still the best. For dress up occasions, the classic jacket and tie can't be beat.
As we age we tend to return to our youth. The old familiar things become more important to us. Maybe it is a self defense type thing. Stick with what you know and you don't look foolish. The basics.
Give me a good book,not a nook or kindle. A fire in the fireplace. Real logs,real fire,snapping and cracking. A cup of coffee from the percolator. Maybe a slice of homemade bread fresh from the oven covered with real butter. Settle into that old wing back chair and snap on the incandescent light. Feet up on the hassock ( ottoman if you prefer ) .
I will admit to liking some of the newer things. Flat screen televisions and cell phones. Microwaves are great for reheating. But the things that offer the most comfort are the old things,done the old way. Take the internet for instance, it is a wonderful thing. You can Google just about anything you want to know. I often do. If the item is of real importance however a check in the encyclopedia might be in order. If it is written in there it must be true ! Can't trust everything you read on the internet.