There is a season

New Years, for some New Years is just an excuse to go out and for others an excuse to stay in . I have been on both sides of that debate. In my younger days it was definitely an excuse to go out and act foolish. Overindulgence often caused myself and others to act like a new years baby. Now, in my maturity I stay at home and drink coffee. In some ways I still act like the new years baby, I go to bed early. Now New Years Eve is just the end of the holiday season to me. January the first marks the beginning of a new year on the calender and begins a period of renewal. A renewal of the earth as the plants lie dormant, resting, resting and waiting for the arrival of spring and the healing powers of the sun. The days are already getting longer but in my area of this world the coldest part of winter has yet to arrive. This is the time of year we spend indoors, as much as possible, and renew ourselves as well. I believe that is as the creator intended. Man has tried to alter the environment and has done so, albeit, not very effectively or wisely. There is a season for all things.
Checking my copy of the King James version of the bible that is stated in Ecclesiastes 3:1 " To everything there is a season,and a time to every purpose under the heaven. "
We are entering a time for indoor pursuits. At least that is the way it used to be. Oh I'm sure man has always enjoyed some pursuits outdoors in the winter months, some for survival, and others for recreation, but I think it is safe to say with the cold and darkness we spend most of our time indoors during this time. Perhaps we do some indoor crafts or read. In the modern world we have so many distractions that cabin fever is not an issue. I can imagine that it was a problem a hundred years ago or so. Was that problem a design ? Was it actually a stimulant ? Was the intent to give man time for renewal as well ? It does seem like it should be a part of the natural order of the universe. Just seems reasonable, a time to rest a bit from the labor of just existing. A time to reflect,reevaluate and refresh.
I can imagine what it was like in the not too distant past. The harvest had been gathered and the barn made snug. The animals are gathered and being kept close at hand. The snow lies heavily upon the ground and frost is on the windows. There is little to do but sit in front of the fire. A time to be social and share thoughts and ideas. A time to plan for the future. A time to rest. I think we miss that period all too often in this modern world. Now we take vacations, but get little rest on those. We are always planning activities. I think a period of inactivity is what is best. Yes, I believe there is a season for all things and the season for rest and renewal is at hand.

                                                                                       

Introspection

As we age we do become more introspective, at least I believe most of us do. That is as it should be. An examination of ones motives can only be of benefit. After all, we are the only one we sometimes listen too. Something we all need to work on is listening to others. A comparison. It is the determination between right and wrong that is the flux of life. That is what allows us to progress. Changes and adjustments need to made , a reevaluation.
With a new year staring us in the face it is an excellent time to do a little housekeeping. My wife insists our home be clean and ready for the new year. She says, as the home is on the first day of the year ,so it will be for the remainder. We should do a little housekeeping in our minds. There will be many shows on television about retrospection. The year in review. We should review our year as well. Did you accomplish the goals you had set for yourself ? More importantly though is how did you benefit others in the last year ?
We should have the proper mindset for the coming year. Introspection will show us what needs to be done.
It is a difficult thing to admit when you are wrong about something. It is a difficult thing to change attitudes. The longer you have held a belief, the harder it is to let go of it, if it is false. For me, I find it easier to just, stay the course. That is not always a wise choice. The comfort of the known is an appealing thing. The unknown can be frightening. It is also unsettling when you decide upon a course that is contrary to your core beliefs. That is to say, the things you were taught as a child. A lot of us do that during our rebellious teenage and young adult years. That is when a major sifting of principles and ideals take place. But even that sits upon bedrock, a bedrock of belief. When we chip away at that bedrock we run the greatest risk. But with risk comes reward. And that is what the examination of our motives should provide us. An enlightenment.
An understanding, or at least an acceptance of our motives is essential to our well being. To act contrary to those motives causes the unrest we all experience at times. It is often the source of anger. We need to ensure that our motives are in alignment with our core values and beliefs. The two can not co-exist without that interrelationship. They are not stand alone virtues. To put it another way, practice what you preach. That alone is probably the hardest challenge we all face in life. I believe all men and women have the same basic desires. It is only in the attainment and fulfillment of those desires that we differ. Motive. Introspection. An understanding. We can not change the past but we can influence the future.

Paying Attention

Andy Warhol is credited with saying everyone has fifteen minutes of fame. That isn't exactly what he said though, what he did say was " In the future everybody will be world famous for fifteen minutes. " He said that back in 1968 before there was the internet and world communications were quite a bit different. That may have been a prophetic statement. We may not get fifteen minutes, but we can certainly get an honorable mention anyway. The power to grab the worlds attention does rest in our fingertips. The mechanism now exists to achieve that fifteen minutes and all that remains is for us to grab that attention. Existing celebrities do it all the time with " tweets " or" instagrams ". It is an amazing thing if you really consider it.
I have never been a fan of Warhol and know little of his life or work. I do know he is famous for painting a Campbell soup can, although I have no idea why. I just chalk that up to he was famous and someone decided the painting was great. Well okay, if you say so. There are things I just don't understand and don't even try to.
There are those that go in search of fame. For some it is a lifelong pursuit. For others it is just something you stumble into in. Some revel in it, while others complain about it once it is realized. I often wonder about the motivations of those seeking fame. Is it the fame, or the fortune that often accompanies it ? I hear a lot of the celebrities profess they do  it for the " art " but I wonder. I believe you do have to have a passion for whatever it is that you are doing in order to be successful at it. There are no accidental geniuses. The inherent ability to learn and retain that information may be an accident of nature, but using that same gift is no accident.
Does the amount of attention we require drive our everyday actions ? It would certainly seem so. Some do it with words, some with dress, and some with actions. Does the wallflower not require the same degree of attention and care as anyone else ? When is the cry for attention an overriding factor to civil behavior and common sense ? A healthy sense of self worth is what is required. Is it the amount of external validation required by the individual that measures self worth ? Perhaps because our " world " is so much smaller this need for fame is rising. A larger audience does increase the pressure to succeed. Fifty years ago our " world " was a much smaller place as far as outside influences were concerned. It was much easier to just fit the mold. It was also easier to excel and be a star. Think of it like this, in your high school you may have been in the top ten as far as scholastic ability, then you find yourself at a major University. You are now just one of the crowd. What effect will this have upon you ?
These are some of the thoughts I have regarding peoples behavior. It would seem like there is an increase in negative behavior. Is that because these folks want attention ? Or perhaps it is just that we are now more aware of it. It certainly seems to me I am hearing  more groups of people demanding equal time and attention. Groups that, not so many years back, would not want attention drawn to them. Is this more searching for validation ?
It is a subject that touches nerves but a subject that needs to be discussed. Religion. Is it not the purpose of religion to provide us with the validation that we require ? Religion provides us with that assurance that we are doing what is expected of us. Religion provides us the reward. Contentment comes from within. When we rely upon the external to satisfy that need, we run the risk of disappointment. The world is a fickle place.
The more we turn from religion and spiritual pursuits the more we flounder. The less contentment we feel and the more desperate our need for attention. If we were all to pay more attention to the needs of others and less to our own, the world would be a far better place. 

A reboot

Over the Christmas holiday I was sharing some stories from the past. Christmastime is full of old stories and the joy of the season. Not all Christmas stories are happy ones though, some are tales of sadness and loss. I shared one which has been told to me since I was born. My maternal Grandfather passed away,at home, on Christmas eve in 1949. That was four years before my own birth, but I know the story well. My eldest brother was two at the time. He was waiting for Santa Claus. Grandfather Horace lie in his bed not feeling well and had already said goodnight to my brother. He had told him,we'll wait for Santa. Later in the evening my Grandmother came out of the room and told my Mom, we had better send for the doctor. When the doctor arrived it was too late for him to be of any use, Grandfather had passed away. And so Grandfather Horace lie in his bed until Christmas morning when the undertaker arrived to take the body. Mom vividly recalls them taking her father out of the house, passing the Christmas tree as they did so. Soon my brother was awake and was looking for Santa. Christmas had to go on and so it did. The presents were opened and life continued.
Little was spoken about Grandfather Horace other than the story of his passing. This is in keeping with an old adage my Mom repeats. It is not nice to speak ill of the dead. From most accounts Grandfather Horace had a few faults. I gather his human frailties got the better of him in life. It has only been in more recent years that I have heard any tales of him that were not negative. It is unfortunate that that should be so. Also it is sad that there is no one left that really knew him other than my Mom to tell the tale. She was the youngest of ten children and I'm certain the eldest child would have a different tale to tell. That always seems to be the case anyway. But in thinking about this tale and how Mom always told it I came to realize just how pragmatic Mom is. In fact in the old days I would have to say the majority of the people where that way. Today we have become a bit too idealist, don't you think ? We expect to much from others and from ourselves. With all our modern conveniences and technology things are getting a little too easy. The human spirit needs struggle and strife to nurture and nourish it. The will to go on requires exercise just the same as any other endeavor we undertake.
It would seem to me that we rely too much on resources from outside ourselves a bit too often. We are looking for help when there is no help. No one can mend your broken heart, no one else can bring your soul comfort. These things must come from within ourselves. Therapists and counselors can provide some guidance and instruction, but they are not the cure. The cure comes from you. Whether you draw that strength from your religious convictions or from a purely " logical " point of view is not the issue. The issue lies in resolving the pain.
Time moves ever forward and so must we. To stay in one spot too long is not a good thing. As the old folks would say, life goes on. It is my thinking we are becoming bogged down in thought and not taking action. That is the reason for the conflict in today's world. We like to talk, to discuss, to mull over every minute detail, when in fact we should just accept things at face value. Move on and get on with it. Learn from the past and go forward. Maybe that is all that is needed, a more pragmatic approach ! In  today's terminology, maybe we just need to reboot. Couldn't hurt.

Moving On

The promise has been filled, Christmas has come. I look around my home and the decorations seem to be saying, what am I doing here ? The tree with it's lights aglow looks more than a lamp now and I wonder why that should be so. The shelf sitters and candles, garland and wreaths, holiday motifs, now out of season. On new years day I will pack them all away. In the last few years  that has become my custom. So, into the big totes and to the attic they will go.
For the new year the house gets cleaned top to bottom. The house will be put back into everyday mode. It is the day to begin another year. This year is an even year. I am not really superstitious but 13 isn't a favorite number. Fourteen sounds better, if not a bit older. Two Thousand Fourteen does have a ring to it.
We have a tradition of eating sauerkraut on New Years day. It is supposed to bring you health and wealth. I am glad to say so far the health part seems to be working, as for the wealth, well . When I was younger it wasn't so but in the last decade or so New Years involves fireworks. Downtown, in the city of Baltimore they are having a laser light show. Over twenty years ago, when I first moved to Greensboro, at the stroke of midnight all the neighbors shot their guns,rifles and pistols. It was a little surprising to me but hey, it is what they do. It continues to this day as a tradition here, but scaled down quite a bit.
The big new years celebrations are a thing of the past for me. I no longer stay up and wait for the big moment. I may sit up a little later than usual, but the odds of making midnight are slim. No more Guy Lombardo and the Royal Canadians, no more Dick Clark. What is offered ? Ryan Seacrest ? Really, sounds more like a beach motel at Montauk or some such place. Well, all things in its' time. And time marches forward.

A Christmas of the finest kind

Christmas is a time for nostalgia. I, along with everyone else, get that warm feeling in our hearts. The remembrances of Christmases past and time shared with family and friends. I pulled out the old photographs and those memories all come flooding back. I even posted one on Facebook to share with others. It was fun to read the comments. There was mention of the curtains hanging at the window, Priscilla Curtains I believed they were called and the rolled cuffs on my brothers jeans. The Christmas tree sat there looking so festive, if not perfect in its' shape. Even though I was only four in that picture, I swear I can recall certain things. Funny, I can smell the carpet, guess I crawled on it so much that is embedded, and I can feel the texture. It was a rather coarse woven area carpet, made for durability not style. And the Angel atop the tree, I remember her well, that Plastic angel topped our tree for at least the next fifteen years or so. Sadly, I do not know her fate.
This year I determined to have what I called a " hard candy Christmas. " That song title jumped to mind but I was thinking about an old fashioned Christmas, not necessarily the sad lyrics to that tune. I even bought some hard candy and have enjoyed it. I looked at that picture and I noticed how our Christmas tree was so ill shaped. I smiled because I know that Dad and my brothers cut that tree down somewhere out in Northwest woods. It wasn't on a tree farm somewhere or sold in a parking lot. I know a portion of the ornaments on that tree were hand made as well. Little cut out paper stars and Santa Claus. You can't really tell from the photograph but I'm betting those bubble lights that Mom loved so much were there. And so this year at my home I tried to keep it basic. I used all the ornaments and decorations of old, but didn't add any new. I hosted an event I called, Caroling at the Cabin. On Christmas Eve my family assembled in front of the old log cabin kitchen located across the street from my place, and we sang Christmas Carols. We were joined by one other family, The Davis's, good friends. We sang and did have one passerby stop to listen. She was pushing a stroller with a small child that clapped and seemed to enjoy. The cabin is located next to a restaurant with a tavern. The customers of the tavern apparently enjoyed listening, although they didn't leave the confines of the bar ! They were putting there own form of Merry in Christmas.
The wife and I attended the Church play about the birth of Jesus and listened to the singing of the choir. We watched our grandchildren perform as well. Now, the gifts have been opened and more memories made. I am pleased to have had my " hard candy Christmas ". The simple things in life are indeed the best things. I hope your Christmas was as nice as mine.

                                                                 

Singing at the Cabin
L to R  Maria,Morgan,Me, and Mark

Old friends and Christmas

You often hear it said, Christmas is for children. That is true as Christmas does speak to belief. The childlike belief and faith of a child. The innocence of youth. The baby Jesus, who was a child and grew into a man. Expectations and anticipation fill the air. The question in our minds, what will I receive. It is a  birthday celebration and we get the gifts. Isn't that the best birthday of all ?

Now I have reached my sixtieth year and no little feet are running down the hall. There is little talk of Santa. Even the grandchildren are past that stage. Still, the Christmas tree is up and the decorations are out. My home is ready for the party. The only thing left is to invite the guest of honor. Do you invite Jesus into your home each year ? We should do so every day, and Christmas is just the reminder.

I got up and the coffee was on. I could hear it perking in the kitchen and smell that wonderful smell. The lights on the tree are lighted and they seem so bright. I wonder why that is as they are just those miniature lights. I think it must be part of the magic of Christmas that this should be so. But for me, this morning is much like all the others. I turn on the computer and go check the mail. This morning however I was pleasantly surprised when I opened it. There was an E-card there from an old friend. It was nice to know you are being thought of. There was a time when I would have thought an e-card was somehow wrong, but no more. I have learned that lesson, it is the thought that counts. The old adage rings true ! A touch of wisdom was the gift of that message. Immediately I thought of old friends and Christmases past. I thought of them with a smile, not with sadness or sorrow. They were new again. Just as the birth of Jesus should be new to us each year as well. A renewal of faith and belief that is the gift of Christmas. Yes, Christmas is for Children, the children of God.

                                                             Merry Christmas

Days of Yore

On Christmas Eve when we came home from the candlelight service, cupped inside our hands would be a small white candle with a round paper drip shield on it. The candle had been lit at the end of the service and the object was to get it home still lighted. We all wanted to bring the light of the lord into our home. I believe that task was accomplished a few times and others it was not. It was a tradition and one that I miss.
Once we arrived back home with those candles it would be time to eat. Mom made us a light meal, as it was getting late and we were just too excited to sit still. The tree was trimmed and the lights turned on. There were already some gifts under that tree. Some had been there for days now, and the curiosity was killing me. The ones with my name on I had picked up, given a shake, judged the weight and size, and even tried smelling. The guessing would be over in the morning. I had already decided which one I would open first.
Before too long it was announced that we were to go to bed. That meant, go upstairs and stay there ! Off we would go, my brothers and my sister. Of course, we couldn't sleep and would lie there talking and speculating about what we would get. There was talk of wishes wished and amazing toys. There was talk of Santa Claus. I was the youngest, but my siblings never disputed his existence in front of me. When we grew tired enough we would just lie there in silence listening. I remember hearing sounds of people moving about down there. I remember thinking, I hope Mom and Dad go to bed soon, Santa won't come if they are still up !
Waking up and realizing it was Christmas morning was so exciting. It was here ! We were not to come downstairs until we were called. We would sneak down those stairs and look under that tree. The presents were there ! The ones on the edge I could see the names on, but the ones buried underneath were not visible. We couldn't disturb those gifts or Mom and Dad would know we had been here. I wonder why we thought that now, they were in bed when Santa came, so how would they know ? Well, it is Christmas magic. Back up the stairs we went to wait. When the call finally came, we raced down those steps. Then we were halted in our tracks, stockings are first ! It was that way every year and was a surprise every year. The first thing to be done was to sit and empty your stocking. There would be candy and small trinkets. In the toe of that stocking there was an orange, every year. That is a tradition from my Mom. Now Dads' stocking had a can of beer in the toe and a carton of cigarettes, Santa is a pretty liberal guy. After that it was, go for it. What excitement followed. I can't be sure but I don't think I ever opened that present I had worried over for days first. I think it was always buried in the back and wound up being last or close to it.
And that was Christmas eve and morning at my house. After the gifts were open and the paper cleaned up it was time for breakfast. At some point we would all get in the car and go visit the aunts and see Grandma. Christmas dinner wasn't a big deal at our house. I seem to remember having ham. Ah, for those days of old.

Choices and Contradictions

We are instructed in life by our parents, caregivers, teachers , preachers and friends. We read books, watch movies and in modern times browse the internet. There is a world of information and opportunity out there. There are also choices to be made. These choices become difficult when we must ponder the contradictions in our lives. We all know what it is right, at least we profess that we do, yet we do wrong. We chalk that up to being human. We make mistakes after all. We are tempted,weak,afraid,rebellious,arrogant and spiteful. We are just human. But we go to church,read our Bibles, listen to the evangelists on television,attend revivals, pray and ask for forgiveness. And then we make mistakes ; again. Same ones.
I think there is only one way to rid ourselves of these contradictions and that way is to go with your heart. If you follow and practice what is truly in your heart, there are no contradictions. Those issues only arise when you go forth in opposition to those beliefs. The forces that truly drive us are faith based. The things that we believe to be true, are the truth. The two main examples of this are religion and politics. That is why it is best to not discuss those subjects in polite company. Wars have been fought over both and continue to be fought to this day. That is because both of those topics are full of contradictions.There is no right and wrong, only belief.
Facts can not always dispel contradictions in our belief. That is because belief requires no validation. Either you believe or you don't. The real questions is whether you can choose to believe or not. I do not believe you can. I do not think that is a conscience choice. Christians speak of being filled with the spirit. I'm certain the other religions of the world have a similar saying to describe the experience. I believe it is all the same thing, belief. You do not need to explain your belief to yourself, or to anyone else. That is the true beauty of it, it is truth, truth as you perceive it to be. There is nothing more powerful than that. Once you are able to put aside the contradictions in the world and judge each action on its' own merits, it becomes possible to believe.
Some will label it ignorance and mock. Others will proclaim they have all the answers and be false. Scholars, students and journeyman alike must make choices. All we can do is continue along the path we have chosen.
Good choices,bad choices and no choice at all. These three factors influence our lives in profound ways. Perhaps it is when we have no choice at all, that it is our God intervening. Is it a choice to allow that ? That is a deep philosophical question to ponder. A question worthy of Socrates or Plato I think. I do think belief hinges upon the answer. Further proof of contradiction and choice.

Social Experience

A few years back, well about ten years ago actually, Facebook was founded. Prior to that I was one of those that would be found in a chat room. Do you remember those ? I had found one that catered to the older crowd and the people in there were amicable. Rough language and inappropriate references where kept to a minimum. We were just being social. Occasionally someone would wander in " the room " and act in a manner that was offensive to the majority of the group. They were asked to leave, sometimes not too nicely, and after a few brief exchanges they would be gone. I believe the majority of these incidences were done on purpose. The individual entering the conversation and just saying things to inflame the others. A form of " conversation bombing " like photo bombing, only with words.
Then this social network came along. We then had the ability to share our pictures and much more information. Groups and sub sets of groups have formed. There are " rooms " for just about every niche you can think of. The Facebook admin group is the general overseer. You can be refused entry into this network or removed according to their wishes. I personally do not know of anyone that has been expelled from Facebook, but it is possible.
I hear a lot about cyber bullying. A group of people ganging up on one person and bombarding them with negative comments. A modern form of social ostracization. It can be very powerful and have drastic, even tragic effects. I do think there is little that can be done about it. Human nature is what it is and the pack mentality remains in us all. It is especially true in our youth. As we mature, hopefully, we drift away from that and start acting in a more responsible fashion.
I do wonder why, in this social network, one would choose to comment in a negative fashion. I can understand if perhaps you just wandered in unawares. I do think you would quickly realize your surroundings, and make some adjustments. Certainly I would temper my comments according to the group dynamic. I don't look at that as a compromise in my integrity, but rather the exercise of good common sense. It is usually best to not speak until spoken to. As a general rule I like to listen first, speak later.
I do believe a lot of what is said on the computer is because of a lack of consequences. I can lie and who knows ? I can make grossly exaggerated claims in all areas of my life and who will know ? The only thing holding us accountable is our own conscience. Sadly, for some, that just isn't enough.
It has been said that attention , even bad attention , is better than no attention at all or something to that effect. I suppose there is truth in that statement. For me, however, that attention ( the bad kind ) is not worth the price in most cases. Unless that negative attention will result in a positive gain, it is a futile exercise. The old biting your nose off to spite your face thing. The words we speak, or choose not to speak, form a shroud over our thoughts. I have found it best to be long in thought and brief in your speech. There are certain topics I will offer no opinion on, unless asked directly. There are also topics that are just none of your business.
It could be that Facebook is nearing its end. I hear about instagram and twitter a lot. Maybe one of those will become the dominant site. This experiment in a social network has proven to be profitable, if not the social experience that was envisioned. I do hope it remains as a way to stay connected to my cyber friends. I will continue to treat those in cyber space with the same regard as those I meet in person. 

Taps ... The Last Post

TAPS ... "The Last Post"

A few years ago, a friend visited the Netherlands American Cemetery and Memorial in the village of Margraten , about six miles from Maastricht . There lie buried 8,301 American soldiers killed in the battles to liberate Holland in the fall and winter of 1944-5. Sgt. Bill Dukeman, 101st Airborne Division, 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, Second Battalion, Company C (of "Band of Brothers fame) is buried there. He was killed in the battle of "The Crossroads" in northern Holland .

 

The Dutch hold an annual memorial concert every September at the above cemetery to remember and honor the Americans who died to free them in Operation Market Garden and subsequent efforts to eject the German army from Holland . Sgt. Dukeman, like many other fallen GIs, was "adopted" by a Dutch family. Dukeman's family in the States was contacted and hosted in Holland, and his grave site decorated each year by his Dutch "family." They keep his portrait in their home, displayed in a place of honor. Fathers pass this obligation down to their sons in Holland . This version of the original "taps" music is played by a 13 year old Dutch girl named Melissa Venema. The conductor of the orchestra is Andre Rieu from Holland.

 

Many of you may never have heard Taps played in its entirety . The original version of Taps was called Last Post, and was written by Daniel Butterfield in 1801. It was rather lengthy and formal, as you will hear in this clip.  In 1862 it was shortened to 24 notes and re-named Taps.
Melissa Venema is playing it on a trumpet whereby the original was played on a bugle. 

Watch at this site, and go full screen.

http://www.flixxy.com/trumpet-solo-melissa-venema.htm

This was forwarded to me in an E-mail. Thank You Mr. Nashold. I listened to the link and was so touched I felt compelled to share with you all. With Christmas just a few days off I can't help but think about all those that gave their lives so that we might celebrate. It is only fitting and right. So if you would, take a few minutes today and give this a listen. Get your tissues ready you will need them. Christmas is a time of hope and healing and this piece goes a long ways to that goal.

An Elementary Christmas

This is the last year my granddaughter will attend elementary school. She will graduate to middle school in 2014. Man, that's a eye opener. 2014, who would have thought it ? Grandma and Morgan were baking the holiday cookies and cupcakes for the school celebration. Not sure if it a holiday party or what they are calling it, but it is a Christmas party to me. Melted snowman cookies and reindeer cupcakes. Very cute and very tasty. Will it be the last appearance of these delightful treats ? They don't do that sort of thing in middle school you know ? I can't see them being made just for us, a lot of time and effort is required. They just may become a memory until great grandchildren come along. It is rather a sad thought. I wonder if by the the time my great grandchildren are going to school if home baked goods will even be allowed. Judging by the past and currant conditions, I would say no. And that is a sad thought as well. I beginning to see why the holiday season can become depressing ! Well they can always make them for private functions.
I do think I am going to miss the special little treats being baked. Grandma and Morgan do it for almost every holiday celebration at the school. At one point I was even called, the cupcake man, at the school office. I just delivered the finished goods but would take some of the credit ! LOL Hey, delivery is work too.
There are not many left after this. St. Patricks day comes to mind. Last year they made pots of gold and rainbows on cupcakes. I'm not certain about Valentines day, nothing comes to mind. I'm drawing a blank here, maybe that is it except for the big end of the year party. Caps and gowns perhaps ? Diplomas ?
Yes 2014 looms large on the horizon. The end of elementary school activities for Morgan and Grandpa. The cuteness factor dropping. Childhood fading away. Yup, I'd say this holiday stuff can be depressing.
Well Christmas is for children. New life, new possibilities and hope for peace. There is no telling what Santa may bring. We celebrate the birth of Jesus for that very reason. New hope, new life and new possibilities. Are we not taught that all things are possible through Jesus Christ ? That promise doesn't go away with age. If we allow ourselves to become depressed during this season of renewal, it is because we forget that message.
Do not quit wishing for the things you want. Do not lose hope. The gift is there for the asking.
Bake the cookies, decorate the tree and string the lights ! We can make the melted snowman cookies and reindeer. We can celebrate with all these things. We are the children of God and as such we are entitled. Entitled to celebrate his birth and the hope for the future, and we should celebrate with the innocence of children. With that same belief. Unquestioning and infallible.

Observations

Yesterday with my blog, and later among some friends, I was talking about society in general. Working at the grocery affords me ample opportunity to observe. I do enjoy watching people act and react. A lot has changed over the years. I know it is always a precarious thing, to make generalized statements, but I boldly go forth anyway. If I am foolish, I would say it is in my nature to be so. I have never taken life, or a least the living of it, too seriously. Life, here on Terra firma, is fleeting to say the least. It is my relationship with my fellow inhabitants that I take seriously. And now I find it increasingly difficult to interact with them. Our society is not as social as it once was. Living inside our own little bubbles and only interacting with the " outsiders " when necessary. This is an increasing trend with all the electronics allowing us to stay in touch with those inside our bubble, and the ability to just " order in " whatever it is you desire. Some are now working from home and thus avoiding that contact as well. Strange how man has advanced throughout the ages only to find ourselves hiding in the " cave " for fear of harm.
The greatest challenge to man has always been his fellow man. That is truth. Started with Cain and Abel. Man in his righteousness and might has always attacked his fellow man. In the beginning it was brute strength, that was the power. Then money came along. Money begat power. With money great armies could be raised as man was willing to sacrifice his principles for monetary gain. Man in his desire for ever more power. That continues even unto today. I fear it will ever be so, as man will kill man in his attempt to control.
Religions have formed over the centuries to try to curb this cycle. The major religions of the world all follow the same basic precepts. Those precepts speak to how to treat your fellow man. In most cases the reward for following these laws is everlasting life, and the punishment banishment from the company of men. That is the big lesson to be learned in this lifetime. The lesson is as simple as, how to get along with each other. Pretty basic and pretty simple in thought, but not so in practice. There are a few obstacles to that ideal. Those obstacles are in our minds and coming to terms with them isn't an easy undertaking. We need to pray to our God, whomever it is to you, for guidance.
I live here in Greensboro, a town of not much more than two thousand or so. The grocery store I work at is the only grocery in town. One would expect the shoppers would be familiar, if only casually, with each other but that doesn't seem to be the case. I would say with those under the age of forty I see little interaction with one another. The older set I see a different picture entirely. With that group I see hello's being exchanged and friendly banter about the weather and such. That group is social. The younger crowd are usually on their electronic devices or what I call power shopping. Power shopping is full speed ahead, do not look left or right, get what you want and get out as quickly as possible. If you must push,shove or brush others aside, so be it. Some seem to have put on some form of " urban armor " in a defensive mode. They are unaware of anyone around them, just fully focused on the task at hand and anxious for a retreat.
It is a subject I speak of frequently, community. I do think we are lacking in community these days. I can only speak about Greensboro with first hand knowledge, but I do think Greensboro is a slice of America. Yes, it is a rural slice of the pie but a piece nonetheless. Few of us know our neighbors anymore and that causes us to react to them in an impersonal way. Reactions are different between those on a personal level with those that are not. That I think can not be disputed. Churches used to be the glue of the community. Sadly I feel the Church has lost some of that adhesion. I must say I have no answer for that but there must be one. I would like to see efforts made to reestablish that community. A singleness of purpose is what is required. A single goal. What is your goal in life ? That question should give pause. I'm still thinking about that.

Time Traveler

Like a lot of young people I had a job at the local grocery when I was in high school. I worked for Mr. Chuck Haney, proprietor of the IGA supermarket, North Main Street, East Hampton,New York. As far as I know the store is still there, just a different owner. I would have been there in '69 of '70. In fact my brother was a butcher there and my Mom was a meat wrapper. We all worked together and had a good time. I stocked the shelves.
A little over forty years later and I find myself stocking shelves at the local grocery store. The store is owned by a Mr. Chang Woo and my son is the manager. History does repeat. Yesterday an elderly lady required some help in getting her groceries out to her car. I was happy to help. We had a short discussion on the way. She regaled me of times gone by , when customer service was just that, customer service. I chuckled and agreed, as I remembered carrying out the groceries at the IGA all those years ago. As I sat those groceries in the trunk of her car, I couldn't help but smile. I'm not sure why, but that brief trip back in time was very pleasing.
I think it may be because for just the briefest of moments, I was back at the IGA. While I pushed that shopping cart, wagon as we called them, with that lady walking alongside exchanging pleasantries I did flash back. A polite and cordial discourse between customer and employee. There was a mutual respect between us and it could be felt. I feeling pleased to be of service  and she happy to get her items without straining her back. She told me how her grandson would be there waiting to bring the things into the house for her.
I closed the trunk lid and began pushing the wagon back to the corral. This lady thanked me. I did remember how it would be at this point, back in the day, I would receive a tip. Usually a quarter, except in the case of one particular customer. That customer came every Friday like clockwork, every Friday she asked for me to assist her, and every Friday she gave me a dime ! I remember it well and smile every time I think about it.
Those were good days and good times. American society has changed over the years. Expectations have changed as well. Attitudes are quite a bit different. I think people were generally happier back then. It just may be that people were less likely to show negative emotions and put on a good front. I didn't sense such anger as I often encounter today. Maybe it is me, or maybe it is the times.
The pace was definitely slower. There was time for interaction with the customer. Employees often were heard saying, " may I help you with something ? " You just don't hear that much anymore. Groceries were taken out to the car, unless the customer declined such service. As a general observation of the public, which working at the grocery store affords me, I would have to say this. Society today is more confrontational than cordial. That is to say, I think we are becoming a nation of spoiled little brats. We have so much compared with a lot of others in the world and fail to appreciate that. We demand so much more. If we do not get whatever we want, we sue ! We file complaints and stage protests. We are bullies. All the while we talk about all the good causes we support, yet we will confront anyone that disagrees. Well that is how it is nowadays. I did get to visit 1969 yesterday and perhaps I will again today. That is the beauty of memory, is it not ?

A rewarding mystery

I remember this as being a time of the year for mystery. For two weeks or so before the arrival of Christmas that was the case in my home. Questions asked where usually met with, none of your business. Or the ever popular, if you want Santa Claus to come you had better be good. Santa doesn't like nosy children. There were definitely forces at work, behind the scenes, that we children were not aware of.
The Sears Christmas Wish book was our mall. I spent hours looking through those pages, circling things and marking the pages. Before it was over, between myself and my siblings, half the pages were folded over on the corner. Dear Mr. Sears did have it all. If Sears didn't have it, you probably didn't need it. J.C. Penney did pick up any slack though.
The toys appeared on Christmas morning. I never saw any before that time. Where and how Mom and Dad kept those packages hidden I can't be sure, but I have never asked. That would be like having the magician explain his trick. I have chosen to leave that answer to guess and speculation. There may be a few gifts under the tree from a close friend or relative, but that would be the extent of it. Santa always arrived on time and those packages were always wrapped nicely with your name written right on them. Santa, or one of his elves, had handwriting just like my Moms', isn't that strange coincidence. Well, given their ages they probably went to school together.
At what age I lost my belief in the whole Santa thing I can't say for sure. That was a tale that just melted away like the snow in the springtime. I remember speculating about it, but not wanting to admit to it. It was best not to risk it, after all, if he knows when you are naughty or nice, who knows what else he could know.
It is a wonderful tale for children though. The concept of a jolly old elf that will fulfill your wishes, as long as you are good. If you think about it, it is an introduction to belief. Do what is right and you are rewarded. Without going into a whole big thing about the origins of Christmas, Chris Cringle  or any of that, I think it is a safe analogy. The lesson is the same, doing the right thing always pays off. Always, even for an Eternity. The first requirement is belief. Belief will lead to faith. Faith leads to action. Action gets results. In the end the believers, or the faithful if you prefer are rewarded. Really, it not so much a mystery after all. Although they do say, God works in mysterious ways. 

A mysterious retreat

My granddaughter Morgan had watched the Sound of Music on television . Following that I was talking with her and the mention of Nuns came up. Morgan tells me the Nuns scared her. She was bothered by their habits. I told her who and what the Nuns did, and that they were nothing to be afraid of. I don't think she really has a fear of them, but got the reaction from Grandpa that she wanted. Kids are smart like that.
Anyway, this mention of Nuns brought back an old memory. When I was still living on Long Island and doing upholstery for a living, I was asked if I would do some work for the Sisters at the retreat in Sag Harbor. This work was to be done ,on the side, so to speak. Always anxious to make a few extra dollars I agreed. I hoped my boss didn't find out, and I carried some guilt about implicating a house full of Nuns in this clandestine operation. It did feel a little dishonest, somehow.
I was given directions to this retreat. The name of the retreat is Cormaria. It is located in the village of Sag Harbor and sits on sixteen beautiful acres, next to the sea. Originally built by a Mr. Frank Havens in 1905 as a private residence, it came into the possession of the Scared Heart of Mary religious order. In 1943 it was a finishing school for young Catholic ladies. In 1949 it became a retreat house.
 I drove up to the front entrance and knocked on the door.The door opened and a Nun appeared. Knowing very little about the religious order, I'm not Catholic, I wasn't sure how to address her so I just said, I'm here to recover some furniture. In a quiet, but very stern voice, this lady says, you must see the mother superior, please wait here. Then she disappeared around a corner and I was left standing there.The house was quiet,very quiet. The interior was paneled with heavy oak wainscoting and was dark with age. The ceilings seemed twelve foot high and the windows were made from Tiffany glass. I stood silently looking around. Soon the Nun reappeared,as if by magic, and escorted me to the Mother Superior. She sat behind the largest desk I had ever seen. To say I felt a bit intimidated is no exaggeration. After our introductions , the sister, as I was later told to call the others, left the room.
Mother Superior, that is the only way I addressed her, took me into a large dining room. There was a long oak table and eight matching chairs. It is these chairs that she wanted recovered. They were straight back chairs, heavy and ornate. The seats were covered in cowhide. The cowhide had become cracked and worn over the years. I assured Mother Superior I could recover these chairs with any leather/fabric of her choice. Following the selection of a material, the price was negotiated. I was asked to take no more than two at any one time.
And so, I took two at a time. Each time I returned the same process was repeated. I would knock on the front door and be escorted to the Mother Superior. Sometimes almost immediately,at others, I had to wait. Rarely did I see anyone else. Once I did see an older Nun who nodded at me and went down a hallway. The floor was hardwood, but she made no more sound than a Ninja ! Like in the movie, The Blue Brothers, she seemed to float down that hallway rather than walking. It was a bit unnerving.
Each time I returned with the finished chairs Mother Superior would examine them. I felt like I was being tested and graded. Would my work be acceptable, even for God to sit on ? I never heard any complaints so I guess it was alright. After the inspection  we would go back into that office of hers. There, out of a drawer on the side of that massive desk, she would withdraw a checkbook. Not really a checkbook like you or I would think of, more like a ledger. She would write a check out in the most perfect cursive handwriting you have ever seen. A notation about the purpose neatly written in the comments section. I would be handed the check and dismissed.
That retreat was a place of mystery to me. Being in my early twenties, I felt a little uneasy there, as perhaps my lifestyle wasn't up to their standards. The interior was very quiet and quite dark. I imagined Nuns praying fervently in their rooms somewhere. It was a kind of creepy place. As is usual with the unknown, a bit of fear was always present. Just what I thought might happen I don't know, but Mother Superior has got a powerful ally that much is certain !

                                                                                     

Cormaria, as it appeared in 1943

Conditioning

A few days ago I posted a quote from an old fella, Epictetus. He was born a slave and lived in ancient Greece. As would happen in those days, he wound being a Stoic philosopher. His teachings were written down by one of his students. He believed that philosophy was a way of life and not just a theoretical thing.
His main premise was that all external things are determined by fate and out of our control. Individuals are responsible for their own actions, which they can examine and control with self discipline He went on to say that suffering occurs from trying to control what is uncontrollable, or from neglecting what is in our power to control. He also felt it was our duty to care for our fellow man. This was the way to happiness and peace of mind.
That is pretty much what Epictetus had to say about things and I can't say I find much to argue with. I have reached the same conclusions as some of his writings. I think most of us have and it is really just a matter of writing them down. In all fairness and honesty I can not take credit for these thoughts. I heard much of it from my parents and grandparents. I have read it in books and was taught it through Church lessons and morality stories. It is only the reaching of an understanding of these messages that I can claim. When the messages become beliefs, they become knowledge.
Epictetus did say that we could examine and control our own emotions. That is the only thing we can control and I see the truth in that. I would take it a step farther to say we influence the next generation. We condition their response to the external. Isn't that the purpose of parenting ? The general state of society today has been created by that. It is our parenting that has created what exists today. We are now the external as our children have grown into adulthood. They are now doing the influencing. Have we done our jobs ? Sadly I think we may have failed in some regards. Have we conditioned our children to be complainers ? Is that why this insistence of everything being equal or politically correct. From our days of protest and social rebellion have we advanced the next generation ? A generation that is attempting to alter the external through litigation ? A generation insisting others change to suit them ? A generation of instant communication and unlimited knowledge literally at their fingertips ? Has this become a distraction ? Is there no time for quiet contemplation and the drawing of conclusions ? Or is that the function of the elders ?  In our advanced years our duty shifts to imparting that knowledge to the current generation ? A generation not of our making, but a generation that is the fruit of that generation, our grandchildren ?
Epictetus said that suffering comes from trying to control what is uncontrollable, or from neglecting what is within our control. He said that was the path to happiness and peace of mind. And in saying that I believe he was saying you can condition your response to the external to have it effect you either in a positive or negative way. That response is the only thing you have control over. You are responsible for your own happiness and as a consequence , your own peace of mind. My Grandmother was fond of saying, " do not worry about tomorrow, tomorrow will take of itself ". Was she saying, do not worry about what you can  not control ? I think she was. The old folks can teach us a lot, if we but listen.
What I'm trying to say here is this; we can quote Epictetus, Socrates, Plato or Marcus Aurelius and sound learned. The thing is our parents and grandparents told us the same thing only with different words. Ever heard, " don't cry over spilled milk ? " What does that mean ? If you don't have anything nice to say ,don't say anything at all. Maybe it really is as simple as, wear clean underwear in case you are in an accident ! Epictetus did say, All external things are determined by fate !     

Use common sense

So I'm reading some news and learn that a Nativity scene was ordered removed from a military installation because a complaint was filed. An organization calling itself the Military Religious Freedom Foundation acts on behalf of any military member filing a complaint. The stated goals of this organization are Religious Freedom for All. It's founder a Mr. Michael Weinstein, started this group in 2005 following what he said was religious discrimination against him. He is of the Jewish faith. A noble cause but one that has now become perverted into something totally different. This group now wants to block all religious practice in the Military.
The removal of the Nativity scene was ordered by a judge. The tired old excuse of separation of Church and State was referenced. Additionally, the Constitution was used as a tool in its' removal. Somehow it has been found in the Constitution that it says you can't have a Nativity scene on a military installation. I have read the Constitution several times and must have missed that point. Apparently one must be a Constitutional Scholar, like our current President claims to be, to understand it. I don't agree with that however.
I do think the framers of the Constitution were educated men. Yes, they were men of influence and power. They were not what we would call the common man, but I believe they did have good common sense. When they composed the Constitution they never imagined others, hundreds of years later, would not understand that. I think it would be a fairly safe assumption to say they did not intend to prevent the erection of a Nativity scene. You could argue that they said the Government may not use your money to do that, but that doesn't mean volunteers couldn't do it. In the case I am speaking of that is just the case. No government funds were used or government employees while on the payroll. Arlington National Cemetery is full of religious symbols and this group, the MRFF would have them all removed, if they could. This perversion of the Constitution infuriates me. And that is what I am trying to say here. All written words or spoken ones for that matter, are subject to interpretation. Have we become so very educated that we know throw common sense and reason out the window ? The founding fathers knew, I know it and you know it too ! It is impossible to write down every little detail for every possible scenario. The Constitution is just an outline. We the people must rely upon common sense and good judgement. That is the way the framers lived their lives ,as did the common folks. A lack of common sense and good judgement got you killed back then. The world didn't tolerate the stupid or the foolhardy.
Religious freedom was a primary factor in our migration from Europe. The freedom to practice our faith,as we saw fit. Religious freedom is not the prevention of others from practicing their faith. Discrimination is the result of individuals, not religion. I have real fears for the future of our nation if this path is allowed to be followed. Shall we just throw away the basic tenets, as was written into the constitution, in favor of a scholarly interpretation ? What is the common sense approach ? That is the way we should be going.

Going back to church.

Just about one year ago I wrote a blog about a particular church. This church was The Cow Marsh Primitive Baptist Church, also known as The Church at Mount Moriah. A very old wooden structure that sat back off the highway, unused and at first I thought, uncared for. This has turned out to not be the case. The church has been painted and some care taken to preserve it. I still don't believe any services are being held there however.
Shortly after writing that post I was informed that a painting had been done of that very building. A local artist had seen it and was also drawn to it. As it turned out this artist, by sheer coincidence, met the president of the Greensboro historical society at another location. A conversation was started and this church was mentioned. This artist then graciously offered the painting to the historical society. I am a member of that society. Last evening I met the artist and the painting. The artist, Mr. Rich Bazelow, captured the same feeling in his painting as I in my writing. It was an honor to meet him. I understand a little better now the inspiration of an artist. He painted what I was thinking. Although, to be accurate the painting was done first. No matter, artist and writer met in that place. The place is timeless in and of itself. We all think in the present but that doesn't make it so. Time is relative and perhaps space is too.
Somehow I get a sense that a circle has been closed. What the purpose of this was I have no idea. I was just an instrument in its' completion. Mr. Bazelow was a part of this. The people that had the church painted and cared for are part of it. This church is on the national register of historic places so its' future I hope is assured.
Those that are interred in the graves behind this church are its' guardians. Perhaps it is there faith alone that has kept this place alive. At first I saw the church standing there and I thought it was forlorn. I know see it as waiting. It just stands there waiting for the return of the faithful. Perhaps the faithful visit singularly now and can only look through the windows. In so doing however they can look back at time. A time when this proud edifice hosted the faithful. The doors are closed but the invitation is open. The " Primitives " would be pleased I am sure. In this context the word primitive means original, or the first. They believed their church was a direct line to Jesus and the church he spoke of. They did not want to be called Protestants or Catholics. Theirs' was a simple faith unencumbered by ritual and much formality. Some would say they were rigid in their beliefs. Well, shouldn't you be ?

                                                                         

Mr. Rich Bazelow

No spectators please

With fame and popularity comes certain things. You lose a measure of your privacy. You become a source of constant curiosity. Your every word and action is scrutinized. It is a large price to pay. I can appreciate that. I do not feel sorrow for these people however, at least not the ones that went in search of this fame. The ones that it happens to, accidental like, I can empathize with. It would be a big pain in the butt.
These thoughts were brought to mind with the memorial service for Nelson Mandela. He has been lying in state for seven days. Now he has been moved to another location for another two days. The people are lined up by the thousands to say goodbye. That is a fitting tribute to a great man. The thing is, I wouldn't want that. With his fame and popularity I feel like he is being placed on display for ten days. The same thing happened to Abraham Lincoln. He lay in state for awhile, was moved across the country, by train, and displayed everywhere along the way. It just doesn't seem respectful to me. Should I gain sufficient fame and die, do not do that to me. A couple days is enough. One for " viewing ", a ritual I despise in the first place and one day to bury me. That's it.
The whole viewing thing is a concept I really don't understand. People standing around saying how " good " you look. People I am dead, not one of my better looks. I just think of it as morbid curiosity. I much prefer remembering someone as I last saw them living. These extended viewings just kinda creep me out. I mean it is bad enough when you know the person passed two days ago but ten days ! I know there are those that say they just want to say goodbye. I'm in heaven, hopefully, and can hear you from anywhere. You do not need to speak to my body. Believe it. Do not be a doubting Thomas and demand proof.
I know this is in contrast to social convention. It is just the way I feel about it. I do go to " viewings " and funerals. I go for those left behind. If it can give them some comfort it is the least I can do. I do think it should be a highly personal thing however. Only those closest to the family should be in attendance. Those that are not would be more like spectators. I don't want any spectators at my funeral. I'm just sayin'.

A day's work

I have often thought how satisfying life must have been back in the old days. In the days when a man had to forage for food or grow his own. When the majority of things he had, he made with his own hands. For the ladies too, it must have been a satisfying thing. Their destiny was pretty much shaped by their own hands and effort.
Sure it must have been tough. There were times when you had nothing extra,when you barely got by. But the times you came in with the evening meal, or harvested that crop must have been exhilarating. The satisfaction of success is like a drug.
Man has made great progress. That is what we believe. Our jobs provide us with the money to survive. We use our brains more than our brawn. Some even make a living being brainy. For most of us it is a combination. I am left with wondering if I could survive the old way. Would I have the intestinal fortitude to persevere ? Anyone can learn to shoot a gun and kill an animal, that is not a challenge. The challenge lies in having to do that to survive. I can fish, and do so for sport, but to do it out of necessity is a different thing altogether. Building shelter and providing for the basic necessities is a full time occupation.
It does make a huge difference what you are born into. The things you are raised with and around shape you. I was born into automobiles and electric appliances and such. I am no pioneer. There are things I do not like that a pioneer had to live with everyday. Creature comforts that are taken for granted today. I do believe I would adjust to these inconveniences. I have no question that I could hunt game and fish. Farming however, that would take some learning. I'm not much of a farmer.
I think it is the freedom of that life that is the appeal. When you were your own man. Not many rules or regulations to worry about. Didn't need a license to live, that license had already been granted to you by your maker, government had not taken it away. That, I think, is what the native Americans thought too. We Europeans came and introduced government and man's rules. We call it progress. As we progress we need to think about what it is we are progressing toward ? What is the destiny of man ? What is it that we are trying to accomplish ? We speak of space travel and advances in science and medicine. We talk about education. But, to what end ? Is the end to the benefit of all mankind ?
I do think a man needs struggle to thrive. Pioneer days were more of a physical struggle than anything else. You against the natural elements. We have progressed to more of a mental game. With the mental game I don't think you get those " endorphin's " , if that is the correct term, that give you that sense of euphoria when you are successful. That manly feeling ! The feeling that makes you want to beat your chest and declare, I am man ! Or women, for that matter. That is why we play sports isn't it? Why we exercise today. We need that fix.
Maybe it is the redefining of the manly role in society that bothers me. I was raised more in a time of manly men doing manly things. Were there social issues with that ? Absolutely. Was it better ? Ah, now that is a good question. At the risk of sounding chauvinistic, I will say I like well defined roles. The blurring of lines confuses me. I do prefer the physical game to the mental one. With the physical, the results are immediately obvious. I like that. With the mental the answer may not become obvious for days or even years. The mental is for sitting by the fire and relaxing after a hard days labor. That is the time to bask in the satisfaction of a days work. A time to brag about your accomplishment, a time to give thanks that you survived another day.

I remember

Growing up I lived on a dead end dirt road. Literally. The road was a dead end and it was dirt. Our house was the first one on the right. It sat on a small rise of land. The front yard was a small patch of grass inside a split rail fence. The drive was to the left of the house and you could park one car there,two if they went one behind the other. In back was a much larger area, but very little grass. Mostly just hard packed dirt and a large patio. The clothesyard was there too, off in the rear right hand corner. Beyond our back yard was another dirt road, no houses on this one, and then Northwest woods.
If you continued up this road you would find two more houses on the right and two on the left. That was it. The whole neighborhood. A little pocket of humanity and we all knew one another. Out of the other four homes, two were stable. George and Francis Rollings lived in the first house on the left. Uncle George,as us kids called him, passed away when I was fairly young but his wife Francis lived there. She was a kind lady with funny ways about her. At least we thought she was funny. She drove a Jeep. Not the Jeep most think of today, but the Jeep that looks like a big station wagon. Geez, I hope everyone knows what a station wagon is. I don't think they call them that anymore. Across from her was Donald Norton. Norton, as we all called him for reasons I have no idea about, was a confirmed bachelor. He worked for the town and pretty much kept to himself. Every Thanksgiving my Mom would make a plate for him and one of us kids would take it to him. He always seemed to be home. Oddly, he seemed to me one of the smartest guys I knew, book wise I mean. Very informed about current events and always quoting people. I heard him speak at length on several occasions. Years later I was told he had a passion for the drink at one time. This was during the time he would make these speeches. Could have been, but I was still impressed. It has been a number of years since I last saw the man but think about him every now and again.
The house next door was a different matter altogether. The first people I remember living there was a family of four. The had two boys. I won't mention names as the boys I'm sure are still living. The parents got divorced. The events leading up to that divorce weren't pretty I can assure you of that. I remember some of it and it was like a made for tv movie. The next people living there was a larger family and appeared to me a rather transient bunch. I never had many dealings with them. The only other home was at the far end of the road. At the very end in fact. It was owned by a man I only knew as Paco. He was an artist of some kind. He painted those abstract things that looked like spilled paint to me. He and his family would only be there on weekends and sometimes a few weeks in the summer. It was Paco that started building a fallout shelter in his backyard. As far as I know it was never finished. After Paco, the house was rented out. It was always rented to, what we would call section 8 families today, but welfare folks back then. I recall a couple of them.
I was remembering all this as I put up my Christmas lights. I remember we were the only house on that road to put up lights. Dad would put one string across the front of the house. They were those big bulbs ( C7 ) in all colors. There was a wreath, handmade, on the front door and some greens under the windows. That is about the extent of the outdoor decorations I can remember. I do think one year we strung lights on that split rail fence but wouldn't swear to it. Whatever the case, it was definitely a simpler time. Few pictures of this house exist. I can still see it in my mind though. It did look inviting with those strings of light across the front as you walked up the dirt road. I knew the fireplace would be lit and a dish of hard candy was sitting on the coffee table. All the indoor Christmas decorations would be on display and the tree in the far corner, by the staircase. Fond memories of a time gone by. A time I try to recreate every year. I think most of us do. Christmas past revisited.

I'm not sorry

In all things there should be a balance. Too much or too little is not a good thing. Lately, I have had it pointed out to me, that perhaps I am in the process of establishing some of that balance in life. I have been looking at it as gaining some wisdom and an awareness of some knowledge. Now I've been told that is true but only as a balance to what I may have done in the past. The only question then remaining is,is this balance proportional ? That is to say will my knowledge increase proportionate to the amount of dumb things I did years back ? If that is true, I guess I'll become a genius before this balance is achieved ! Somehow I do not think that is the case however. I do think there is a price to be paid, for everything. Another balancing of the scales.
The ancients and mystics talk about this balance. They have a name for it, karma. I believe in karma, what comes around ,goes around, is the American equivalent. It does make good common sense. To achieve this balance one must first establish the " tare " weight. The " tare " of course is the weight of the empty vessel, in this case me. All the wrongs and dumb things I have done thus far in my life has added to this " tare " weight. Enlightenment and knowledge are the products to balance this tare. I must now strive to obtain both. The task is not impossible but does require effort, effort and awareness. And, as it was pointed out to me, remembering the past and applying those lessons to the present. I admit to sometimes forgetting, or having selected memory, of certain times or events.
One must start with an honest appraisal of the tare weight. I think that alone is the largest impediment to success. It is a difficult thing to establish, this tare. The admission of your own shortcomings, without the desire to justify those actions, is the basis of enlightenment. Knowledge stems from that. The mere admission of wrongdoing is not enough. You need to understand just why it was wrong. I didn't know it then, but that is what Dad was trying to say when he sat me in the corner with this admonishment, " you just sit there and think about what you have done ! " Later he would come back and demand an explanation. Geez, I hated that part. I hated it more because I had to admit my own faults and those faults were received without sympathy. Saying sorry, just didn't cut it. I have come to realize that is true in life as well, saying sorry just isn't enough. Better to strive to never having to say you're sorry. Wasn't that a theme in a movie ? Love means never having to say you're sorry ? Ryan O'Neil and ?. Saw the film but didn't really understand the message back then.
Not all of the tare weight is a bad thing. The more of that, the good tare, you have, the less balancing you must do. Of course it does logically follow that all good must be balanced with bad. Now that is where the true dilemma lies. I can only hope I got all of the bad stuff over with years ago. The challenge should then be to not overcompensate ! Is it possible to be too good ? The answer would seem obvious, but then again, I thought some other answers were pretty obvious a few years back ! All is not as it would seem. In the end all we can hope for is balance. So, if I do something bad I'm just trying to balance the scales. All is not as it would seem.

Stuff

I like stuff ! I like having choices. Variety is the spice of life. These statements are true for me. With that thought in mind I wonder why I get a sad feeling while at the Walmart or mall ? I look at all the stuff available and watch others scurrying around and rooting through everything. All that comes to mind is " crass consumerism. " I am no activist, no defender of social consciousness, yet this feeling comes over me. I feel it a little stronger each time I go to one of those places. Is there some kind of readjustment going on in my thinking ?  A change ?
Yesterday in the news they were talking about the sun. The scientists were saying it is getting ready to shift the polarity of its' poles. Apparently this happens once every 11 years. There is no explanation for this cycle. They say the earth does the same thing only it happens every 450,000 years , on average. It also takes between ten thousand and one hundred thousand years for this to happen. Could I be feeling a shift in my polarity ? I have noticed this before and in fact wrote about it. I noticed it when I moved my bed and the head became the foot and vice versa. My sleep was briefly interrupted by this change in polarity. I don't think it was the sun then, I mean my bedroom gets rearranged more often than every eleven years. Of course my relationship with this polarity does. Humm. something more to consider.
But back to what I was talking about. This consumer gluttony. I am wondering if the availability of so many choices is now leaving us unsatisfied. Remember when you were a child and you wanted that one particular toy ? That was the one you wanted and no other would do. When the time came and you got that toy did you not feel elated ? A need had been satisfied. You had to choose just one or two items. The choices were not as plentiful and the receiving of these gifts not so frequent. Remember when you didn't get that one special item that you so badly desired ? I do, and I remember still wanting it, sometimes years later. Now it seems we flit from thing to thing as quickly as a hummingbird at a feeder. Perhaps it is sensory overload.
I'm certainly not the first to notice this. Others have written and reported on this phenomena. It has to do with contentment and enjoyment. Can you be satisfied,happy and content with the items you already have ? Even when those items are not the latest and greatest ? Can you put a filter on your own desires ?
I tend to find the things I enjoy and stick with them. The items that make me feel confident and comfortable over the years, those things that have stood the test of time. Maybe it is part of the aging process, this realization that we do not need everything we see. That would explain why we keep ratty old sweaters and worn jeans. And perhaps some of it is fear. As we age learning new things, like programming a dvr, can be a daunting task. Perhaps we can just be content with the way things were. Nothing wrong with that. Having lived the past it is certainly a comfort to the soul. New things and changes can be upsetting. Maybe, just maybe, all this crass consumerism is leading society to a lack of focus. We have so much we cannot enjoy the things we have because we want more. Are we so busy looking for stuff that we are not appreciative of the things we have ? Maybe it is this "rush" that bothers me. I mean, just how much " stuff " do you need ?
I guess only time, can tell.

Leveling the field

I was thinking we have reached a time in our history when we no longer should emphasize our differences in regard to race. I attend meetings where, variously, I hear about the minorities and special programs and such for them. I just think we have reached that point where these individuals should have to attain these benefits of there own accord. I can not see anyone being denied anymore based solely on race. There are millions of examples now of blacks in leadership and supervisory roles. They are Doctors, Lawyers, Engineers, Politicians and everything else you can name. There are no exclusions anymore ! So, that begs the question, are these programs really necessary today ? Should these so called, " minorities " not be encouraged to pursue their dreams based on their own efforts alone without the benefit of any special labeling or programs ?
Yes prejudice exists and always will. That is not to say we shouldn't continue to work towards a time when that will not be so, but realistically will that ever be achieved ? I would have to say no. Man will always find a reason to hate. Sad but true.
I wonder if some of these programs are not doing more harm than good. Are these programs becoming more of a crutch than a helping hand ? The original intent was to clear the path for advancement, to remove unjust obstacles. Now it appears that some of these programs are nothing more than an excuse for not having to strive harder than others to reach their goals. Just play the minority piece. Test scores are being lowered for those in that category, scholarships and opportunities unavailable to others.
I think a re-leveling of the playing field is in order. It has become unduly tilted. I am not necessarily talking about black and white or Hispanic or whatever. I am talking about equal opportunity. Should that not apply equally to all ? Is that not what the very definition of it is ? I believe there are inequalities in the present system. Although well intended these inequalities are causing harm. In fact in some instances they are now fostering the very prejudice they were designed to circumvent.
The problem lies in the revoking of these privileged programs. The outcry would be great. These things have become viewed now as an entitlement. Taking away that perceived " right " would definitely cause unrest. In an ironic twist it would not be viewed as the achievement of a goal, equality, but as a act of further prejudice. The only solution is the expansion of the programs. People easily become dependent. Like giving candy to a child to appease them, in the end they get obese and have bad teeth ! Bad habits form quickly. Maybe it is time to change some of the behaviors.

Get the Gift

It is December the 6th and I have already been to a Christmas dinner and a parade. Back in the days of my youth that would have encompassed the whole holiday, but today, it is only the beginning. Another parade is on the agenda for Saturday. I also have several other events to look forward to. Maybe there is something to this notion of, a little too much and too early with the Christmas celebrations. Although I suppose I should be saying Holiday events to be correct.
I enjoy the season as much as the next guy. I like seeing all the lights and decorations. It is truly a celebration. When you are a child it is the anticipation of the gifts you may receive that drive your motivations. As an adult it should be the same. The anticipation of the birth of Jesus is what we should be focused upon. Unfortunately, for many, that part of the celebration is being taken for granted. Yes, I believe Jesus was born 2014 years ago in Bethlehem. And with his birth he gave the gift of eternal life. Each year we celebrate that gift. A gift we can all receive if we but ask for it ! We should all be excited in anticipation of the fulfillment of that wish, of that gift. That is the miracle of Christmas.
These thoughts of mine are not meant to be a sermon. I assure you I am no evangelical. I carry my faith in my own heart and try not to impose it upon others. I will gladly share my beliefs with you and have no shame in them. I leave the mission work to the missionaries. I was very pleased to see more Christian faith related themes in the parade last night than I have seen in years past. Perhaps I am seeing a growing trend. I hope that is true. The pendulum swings slowly and changes occur, history does repeat.
And so I say, bring it on ! Bring on Christmas and the hope that comes with it. We could all use a little more good cheer and good will toward man. Light the lights or as I like to say, " Strike the harp and join the Chorus " Fa la la la la, la la la laaaa ! "

This is what I'm talking about !

Sounds of the Seasons

Have you ever heard the sound of a bell buoy on a foggy night ? Both haunting and comforting at the same time. Or the sound of  rope slapping the mast of a sailboat at anchor. The squawk of a gull in flight circling, circling while looking for food. The slamming of a screen door and the clanking of a window weight. Whip-or-Wills in the darkness of a summer night.The creaking of a wooden boat at anchor in the bay and the screech of a far off owl. These are the sounds of my childhood. Sounds ingrained in my soul.We all have these sounds and usually we are not aware of them. But there are times when they creep into our consciousness and bring emotion with them. Sometimes sad, sometimes happy and sometimes something in between.
Lying awake in the stillness of a summer night I could hear the water pump in the basement come on, in the cold of winter it was the furnace with it's dull roar. As the water heated and ran through the pipes they cracked and popped as they expanded. Occasionally the release of steam created a little whistle. Remember the sound of the record when the needle reached the end ? Over and over, a scratching sound until the arm was lifted. That was a hollow sound and somehow melancholy. Ever listen to a squirrel running on the roof ? Or listen to the tapping of the woodpecker ? How about the crunch of snow beneath your feet on a crisp morning.
All these sounds are recorded. All these sounds that I hear in my mind. What a gift. Each sound can carry me back in time. And at Christmas I have a tradition of listening to the Christmas tree. My Mom told me about this and she always does it too. You just pick a night, any night when the tree is standing, and sit in silence. No television,radio or anything, just quiet. Sit and look closely at the Christmas tree and listen. It will speak to you. It will speak to your heart, if you but listen. The true sound of the season will be revealed. It is not jingle bells and all the other fanfare. Think " Silent Night " and you get the message.
Each moment and season in our lives is accompanied by a soundtrack. How aware are you of its' content ? As the years go by I have become increasingly aware. I am blessed to say my hearing has remained pretty sharp and for that I am grateful. Many my age begin to miss a few things. There are those that have lost their ability to hear or sadly never had it. I can not imagine a world without sound. Isn't it strange that the sound I enjoy the most, is no sound at all ? It is the message of the Christmas tree. I hope I never lose the ability to hear all the other wonderful sounds in this world but I will always have that one to hold on to. 

Bub !

The Washingtonpost.com did an article about dialects in the United States. This was shared to my Facebook timeline. The title was, what English do you speak or something similar. A map of the United States showing the various regions where these dialects are spoken was included. Well, the old hometown made the list. Bonac is the dialect. The article stated the dialect was only spoken by a very few, and was dwindling. Yeah, I knew that. The thing about that article was, what does that say about me ? I speak that " dialect " as a natural and native thing. In my world everyone else speaks a little funny ! Reading this brought to mind a favorite story of my Dad. He would tell of going to the New York State fair and there they had a man that would talk to you. This man guaranteed he could tell you were you came from, just by listening to you talk. If he failed to identify the dialect and the area in the country that spoke it , you won a prize. My Dad won the prize !
This dialect has long been a subject of interest. Books have been written about it and recordings made. I have written about it before. It is still my opinion that the real speakers of this dialect have, for the most part, left us. A fine lady by the name of Marsha King has recently had a book published titled, " A fine day for Fishing." I have yet to obtain a copy of this book so I haven't read it. It is my understanding it tells the story of the end of the individual commercial fisherman on the east end of Long Island. It is from those hardy souls that this dialect emerged. They are the true speakers of Bonac. When they started to pass into history, so did the dialect. I can not claim to be included in their number. Yes, I speak the dialect, an accent we called it, and I had school teachers that attempted to correct my speech. I have been told I still carry that accent. It is a natural and normal thing to me. After reading this article I feel like I am now speaking a dying language. Guess that means I'm really getting old. Older than language !
I expect that there are those that are trying to " learn " this speech pattern in order to identify with the group that used to speak it. Those that will now claim to speak Bonac. I don't think that is possible. It would be like learning a Native American tongue from a book. You may come close to replicating the words and/or phrases but never the emotion used when the language was spoken. It is a difficult thing to explain but Bonac is spoken with the hands as much as the tongue. The inflections in the voice makes all the difference too.
Yes, I would have to say those that really spoke the dialect are gone now. As a child I heard my great grandparents speak in this fashion, and my own father would have trouble understanding them at times. Times change and outside influences do creep in. Was a time when speaking in this fashion labeled you.The label was not one you would be proud of either. Over time that aspect has been forgotten. I remember though. The scholars can write about it and speculate about its' origins. To those of us that spoke it, it was just speaking and nothing more. The article said, those that speak this dialect are dwindling in numbers. I didn't need that reminder, Bub ! 

Mixed Messages

President Hoover is credited with saying, " a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage ", as a campaign slogan. When it didn't come to pass no one called him a liar. That was back in a gentler time when the office of President was treated with a bit more respect and reverence than it is today. Our current commander in chief hears this accusation all the time with his promise of " if you like your doctor,you can keep your doctor. " Turns out that it is true , if you can afford it , same with the chicken if you think about it. Now this blog isn't meant to defend the actions of our current President. Most of you reading this already know my political bent so I will not go into that. What did come to mind was that Hoover promised a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage. That was in 1928 and not a whole lot has changed. One thing I have noticed is their seems to be a pharmacy on every corner ! A great deal of the time more than one pharmacy on the same corner, not to mention the ones in the department stores. Maybe if we had gotten that chicken in every pot, chicken soup is good for you, the current president would not have to be promising you can keep your doctor and we wouldn't have a pharmacy on every corner !
Okay, so maybe that is a bit of a stretch. I do wonder why the proliferation of pharmacies ? Are we all becoming sick or are we just trying to medicate our troubles away ? The big issue is health care now, but was hunger back in '28. These pharmacies must be profitable or they wouldn't be being built. Now the government wants to be involved in the health care business, and make no mistake about it, it is a business. Makes me wonder what is up with that ? Is this another government stimulus deal for the economy ? I mean, we have bailed out the auto makers, mortgage companies and a few other things, why not health insurance. Insurance companies always make money ! I have yet to find an insurance company that worked in my best interest. Just sayin' it is a business and a business is there to make money.
I cringe anytime the government wants to get involved in my personal affairs. I get anxious when the government, and by the government I mean politicians, begin making promises. They make promises they know they cannot possibly keep. The power to keep those promises lie with the people. An individual or entire political party for that matter, can not make any such guarantees. They may say that is what they hope for, what they support, but the final decision lies with the people. Like it or not the Affordable health care act has been passed. That is not to say it can't be repealed, but it is the law of the land. That in and of itself troubles me greatly. Are we going to change into the land of the dependent, instead of the land of the free ? Reliance upon government for our basic needs can not be a good thing. Government should not dictate my choices for my personal affairs. Let's all line up for our government sponsored health care and get in line at the pharmacies. Medicate our troubles away. Maybe we can all qualify for disabilities as well.
Me, I would settle for a chicken in every pot. I don't even care about a car in the garage. At least with the chicken the government was promising you a job. They weren't promising to just give everyone a chicken at the expense of all the other taxpayers. They promised hope for the future. Somehow I'm just not getting that message today.