Keeping time

 I came into possession of an old mantle clock. This clock was the property of my great grandfather.  Actually he had two and my sister got the other one. There were at my parents house for a time after the passing of great grandfather Floyd. I remember then sitting on the shelf next to the fireplace.  I don't recall then running though, not back then. There are a couple of stories associated with these clocks but no one really knows the truth of it. One story says my clock was a wedding gift. I rather like that story, but there is no proof of that.  The other version of the story is far more likely.  Great Grandfather Floyd worked for a well to do lady named Mrs. Morris. She had  an estate uptown somewhere. Rich folks always have estates, poor folks have houses. Anyway, when Mrs. Morris passed it was told to me that Grandfather was allowed to bring whatever items he liked home with him. It is said he brought the two clocks. I do question why he would have two of them though. Now these clocks were sold by Tiffany & Co. and so are of a very good quality. The cases are brass and glass. The one I have is in an oval shape, my clock repairman assures me that is rare, and my sisters is a rectangle. Mine was made at the turn of the century, the 20th century that is, guess we have to be clear about that nowadays. I recently had it repaired and it sits atop my computer desk now, ticking away and chiming the hour and half hour.
 This morning I had to wind it up. I opened that door in the front and retrieved the key. I keep that lying in the bottom of the clock case. Sliding it over the winding peg I gave it a twist. I like the sound and feel of it. You can hear the little cog going click, click as it engages the teeth of the wheel.  I checked the time by glancing at the lower right hand corner of my computer screen. I did have to adjust it. It was then I thought about that. I can easily check the time to the second. When that clock was made it wasn't that simple. You had a professional clockmaker set your clock up at your home. He would  " set the beat " on your clock. The beat is the tick-tock that you hear, my clockmaker explained it to me. There's more to it than you think. Then once the beat was set the time was set. The clockmaker had a chronometer, part of his toolbox, and the rest was up to you. You had to remember to wind that clock. And that is what I did this morning. The moment wasn't lost on me  That clock is well over a hundred years old. I can't but wonder how many years it has run and how many it has sat idle. My clock man replaced a few pivots he told me were worn and then he cleaned and lubricated the mechanism. I'm told that should be done every six months or so. Back in the day, clockmakers traveled door to door doing just that. I couldn't readily find anyone that would do that. My guy is an older gentleman and doesn't provide that service anymore. He gave me a quick lesson in " setting the beat " and after a few attempts I've got. It runs a bit slow but I nudge it forward every now and again. I could continue to adjust it as I am told it will keep the time within two minutes a week, pretty accurate timepiece for 1900.
 The monetary value of that clock isn't very much really, a few hundred dollars will get you one just like it. Old clocks, with a few exceptions, just aren't very valuable. In my hometown a family named Dominy made clocks, those clocks are quite valuable. I don't have a Dominy clock but my grandmother did at one time. No one in the family knows what happened to that clock. It was given to her by one of the Dominy ladies. A nice gift to be sure but one not especially valued, as the Dominy family made clocks all the time, no big deal. Isn't that how it works ? It was like living next door to Picasso and he gave you a painting. Thank you very much and then you stick it in the attic. The clock I have is no Dominy but it is a Tiffany. I know it sat idle for a number of years. I take pleasure in having it running and hearing it chime the hours. My great, great grandparents may have heard that if the clock was a wedding gift. I know for certain great grandfather did, and grandma did, and my father. Generations have listened to its' chime and I hope to continue that. My grandchildren hear it all the time now. I'm hoping one of them will keep it running and when they wind it up, a new beginning as it where, they think of me. I always think of my grampa Floyd. I'm certain he is pleased. To keep it running one has to " set the beat " and then keep it wound up. It requires attention, just like our memories. In that way time is " kept. "

still keeping time

teach the children

 I would like to tell you this Bible passage just came to mind, but that would be less than truthful. The truth is I have little of the Bible committed to memory. I'm not impressed with those that do either. Learning from rote is not necessarily learning at all.  I find it best to read the verse or passage and then contemplate what it means. More specifically what it means on a personal level. Some passages are meant to be taken literally and others I believe are subject to interpretation. It is in those passages that riffs appear. What does it mean to you ? One of the strongest arguments I ever had with my best friend was over the meaning of a song. Silly ? You bet it was but it was an emotional thing for us both. Why ?  I can't offer an explanation for that.
 Anyway,  here is Deuteronomy Chapter 4 verse 9. " Only take heed to yourself, and diligently keep yourself, lest you forget the things your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life, and teach them to your children and grandchildren. " It is a passage I took particular interest in. Just what is it saying ? Well first I had to look up just what Deuteronomy was all about. It is the fifth book of the Torah and a book in the Old Testament. It begins with the phrase, " these are the words that Moses spoke to all of Israel. " Okay, so I know that this was intended as advice for everyone. It is not a commandment, rather good advice. I have found the Bible full of good advice.
 I think this is what it is saying. Only take heed to yourself,  and keep yourself,  means don't be influenced by others. Pay attention to what your own heart and mind are telling you. Do not be deceived, believe the things you have seen with your own eyes. If you allow yourself to be fooled you will remain so forever. There are many out there that will try to fool you. We see that everyday. Some have become convinced of things that we know to be untrue. We hear the argument of " times change " and " we must change with the times ." The truth never changes my friends. Truth remains and is often hidden in plain sight. If you allow others to tell you what you're seeing and how you should feel about that,  how can you know the truth ? You can't simply because truth resides in your own heart. If that heart isn't true how can the perception be true ? In brief, this passage is really saying, mind your own business.
 And what should we be teaching our children and grandchildren ? The advice Moses is giving is to teach them to believe in themselves. We need to teach our child and grandchildren that truth really doesn't change, Truth is eternal. We need to teach our child to take care of themselves and remain diligent in doing so. I would call it self control. We need to teach our child and grandchildren that they must exercise restraint in their lives. All things in moderation. That is not a Bible verse but is attributed to Chilo, one the seven sages. I do believe it is good advice to follow. Just doing whatever makes you feel good is not necessarily the way to go ! The abandonment of truth in favor of harmonious relationships will not benefit you in the end. Be careful, pay attention to yourself and what you are doing. Don't follow the crowd. Follow your own heart lest you forget what love really is. You " saw " love as a child, do you remember ? What did it look like ? Don't allow others to tell you what that love looks like, you should remember that on your own. That is what you should be teaching your children and grandchildren.

" You, who are on the road must have a code that you can live by.
And so become yourself because the past is just a good bye. "  are the opening lines to the song by Crosby, stills and Nash. The chorus says to teach your children well.  Living by a code requires restraint. To me that is what Moses was saying as well, take heed to yourself !

liberty ?

 It is a common theme of mine, the defining of standards. I do believe we need a set of standards to live by. These standards are necessary in our private lives, and necessary for a nation. Isn't that what the big struggle is all about ? You have those that wish to adhere to a set of standards, and you have those that wish to alter those standards to suit their individual needs. When enough individuals get together they can effect a change. In the United States we chose the format of a republic to make those changes. Strangely we teach our children it is a democracy, without explaining the difference. Our founding documents delineate that in a clear and reasonable fashion. The problem arises with the notion that the Constitution and Bill of Rights are living documents.  Oh that sounds good that doesn't it ? Living breathing documents establishing our freedom as human beings ! The truth is, those documents are not living documents, they are a set of standards. We hold these truths to be self evident, that man has the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
 Shall we begin with life. The right to life is self evident. Yet somehow, that was changed to the right to choose ? Do we need to rewrite the standard ? We hold this truth to be self evident, you have the right to live after you are born, before that not so much. Do you really think that is what the founding fathers had in mind ? I can't say with 100% certainty, but I rather doubt that was the intent. I'm thinking that is an individual choice not within the parameters of a national standard. That is were the wheels fall off isn't it ? We didn't call ourselves the United States for nothing. We are not the " individual " peoples of the world living in North America. No, we are Americans. And what do Americans stand for ? Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Okay, maybe not so much for life anymore, that's an individual choice. In fact the woman's' choice. The father has no choice about that. Of course if it comes to capital punishment that may or may not be allowed, depends. If a man rapes a woman, we won't kill him, but we will kill the baby, if the woman chooses that. The sanctity of life and all that. We shouldn't be killing people, at least not after they are born that is. I do believe the right to life is self evident, you do get a chance anyway. I also believe you may do certain things that justify me taking that life away from you, that right has been rescinded by your own hand. I don't feel guilt for that.
 Now what of liberty ? What is liberty ? Is it the freedom to do whatever we want to do ? No, it is the freedom to live within the boundaries of a society. That society does have standards. The government sets the standards. It is also the government that defines those standards. And how does that happen ? It happens when enough individuals get together to pass legislation to alter the existing standard. It is usually done for a common interest. It is the nature of that interest that causes all the problems. I would say very few pieces of legislation are written for the common good. On the contrary, they are written to deviate from the common standard. Legislation can be used as justification for just about anything. Evidence of that isn't hard to find. You can refer to the right to life standard for that. Legislation now justifies that choice. We are even trying to draft legislation that says a boy is a girl, if the boy chooses that. We have redefined marriage after two thousand or more years of a standard. What's next ? Legislation that says a boy can be a dog if that is what he chooses to identify as ? Hey, saw just that on the Jerry Springer show once. A professional psychiatrist said it was a fetish. Some will say it is a choice. Sounds far fetched doesn't it ? So did legalizing abortions and same sex marriages. But you say I have the liberty to do just that. I disagree, you have the liberty to live within the constraints of our society. The distinction may be a bit blurry to some but it isn't lost on me. A society without standards is no society at all.
 The pursuit of happiness. What is that ? That I believe is different for each off us. The question is how is that obtained. It is gained through individual pursuit. Happiness can not be granted by government or another person. It is gained within the constraints of a society. When we can not pursue our interests because they are in conflict with the society we are unhappy. Is it reasonable to expect the society to change ? I don't believe it is. There are certain standards. Whether those standards are delineated with a million pages of litigation or reduced to a simple rule, Do unto others, the standard exists. And is that what all this litigating is about ? Are trying to get everyone to do unto others ?  No, the truth is we are trying to get everyone to allow us to do whatever we want to do. If we can pass litigation we can then cite that as the standard. No need for religion or spiritual values. We will write the standards ourselves. The " self evident " standards are inconvenient and an impediment to commerce. Not only that but I must exercise restraint in the conduct of life.
  Even though I think of myself as a Christian, maybe not a very good one but a Christian nonetheless, none of this has to do with that. It has nothing to do with any religion. The founding fathers knew that and that is why they said it was self evident. No one needs to tell you that you have a right to live, to co-exist within a society of men and be happy. Laws are most often established to tell you what is not acceptable in the society. These are the things you will be punished for. The reason is obvious, to assist you in restraint. Like teaching a child, punishment is used to correct behaviors. When a society begins making laws to allow what are unacceptable behaviors, that is when the society begins to go into decline.  

driving to the dump

 The first car I can remember " driving " was a 1956 Cadillac. Dad let me sit on his lap and steer. I can remember going across Abrahams path on the way home to the dump. Dad working the pedals as I couldn't reach them, but I was driving. Keep it on the road Bub, he hollered as I went onto the shoulder. That's as much a memory as I have of that time and place. Funny how I can still live that experience every time I think of it. Alan Jackson wrote a song in 2002 called, Daddy let me drive, that captured that experience perfectly. It is a universal thing I'm quite certain of that. And yes, Daddy let me drive his boat too, sometimes.
 I took drivers education in high school. You got a discount with the local insurance agent if you did so. I don't believe it was a requirement to obtain your license. I may be wrong but I think the school had a Dodge four door that was used for that purpose. Perhaps it was a coronet ? I just remember it was coach Ted Meyer that was my instructor. Mostly we just rode around town. Coach Meyers had his sunglasses on and would turn on the radio. There wasn't a lot of pressure as I recall or instructing going on either. The movies we watched were made by the Ohio State Police and were very graphic. By todays standards they would be rated R for extreme violence and graphic content. The girls just closed their eyes and the boys tried not to laugh. It was the laugh that accompanies that uneasy feeling you get seeing such stuff, but you gotta be a man about it !
 I took my drivers road test in my Moms car. She had a 1968 Dodge charger. It was an automatic, with power steering and power brakes. It was equipped with the 318 cubic inch engine and so was quite tame. Still I thought it was a cool car to take the test in as I didn't want to look like a nerd. It wasn't easy to parallel park that long body but I got it done. Right after getting that license my sister came into possession of a 1960 Chevy Belair. It had a six cylinder and was a real granny mobile. She gave me that car which I promptly traded to my father for his car. I was now the owner of a 1963 Oldsmobile F-85 ! Sure it was a four door but it had a V-8 ! In fact it was an all aluminum V-8 one of the first available. I bought a Craig 8 track stereo and installed that under the dash. Man. I was rolling now.
 That Olds didn't last long with the abuse I handed out. The driveshaft had what is called a carrier bearing in the center of it. This allowed the driveshaft to " bend " in the center. In that way you didn't have that big hump in the center of the floorboard. That bearing failed several times. I kept replacing it until Buzzy Browns junkyard didn't have any more of them. The killing blow was when the rocker arm snapped in half and she dropped a valve. I just couldn't afford that repair. In a stroke of good luck my Uncle had a car he was willing to give me. It wasn't anything to brag about, a 1963 Ford Falcon station wagon but it was free. That car was his and he had run it for years. He told me it had lost oil pressure and he didn't want to spend any money on fixing it. He purchase himself a new pick up. So, he towed that car to my house with his new truck and I went to work on it. Turned out all it needed was a good cleaning out. The oil screen was so clogged up the oil pump couldn't get oil. A good bath in a tub of gasoline fixed that problem. I was on the road again. That was the car I drove until I left for the Navy, I gave it to my brother.
 I've had a few cars since but still think about those first ones I had. I believe if I could have anyone of them again it would be that station wagon. That little old 170 cubic inch engine rated at 85 horsepower never failed me. Reliable ? You bet it was. It was so uncool, it was cool ! Well that 56 Caddy was something special too but I wouldn't want it for a daily driver, just for special occasions,  like going to the dump with Dad.     

It's not alright

  I often write about whatever is on my mind. Sometimes it is an old memory and sometimes it is nothing more than a discussion with myself. Today as I was watching the morning news the transgender bathroom thing is being discussed once again. Apparently Trump has rescinded whatever Obama had said or done. A little research into that and it turns out it isn't that big a deal. Obama threatened the states with the withholding of funds if the schools didn't allow the trans people to use whatever bathroom they wanted. Trump has just said the states get to decide on that. Of course the news media is making big deal out of this. Some 17 year old transgender person is taking the case to the supreme court. This person claims it is a right to choose what bathroom you want to use . I didn't read that anywhere in my copy of the constitution or the bill of rights. But whatever the case may be, it leaves me wondering. How did we reach this point ? How did we get to where a person that represents approximately .3 per cent of the total population gets a case heard before the Supreme court about a bathroom issue ? Really ?  The Supreme court is going to decide if a boy should use the boys room and a girl use the girls room ? Gender identity ? Say whatever you will, gender is quite easy to determine. What you choose to identify as is in your own mind. Hormones and physical alteration will not change your gender. Just check the DNA, the science doesn't lie. I'd classify a .3 % mentality as an aberration. An aberration is a characteristic that deviates from the normal type. That is the biological definition. Another synonym is deviate.
 I'm not saying these folks can't identify any way they choose. It is after all their business. On the other hand I don't believe that entitles them to anything special. Making legislation to benefit a mere .3 % of the population would be just that. To me it is not unlike the current situation. A good portion of the voting population is now claiming Clinton should have won, she had the most votes ! Majority rules. Well is .3 % a majority ? Is there a majority among the remaining 99.7 % of the population ? I highly doubt that. And for that reason I say, no. Use the bathroom that matches your gender. If that is a problem for you, could be, that is the problem. But, that is just my opinion. I don't have a problem with them choosing what they want to be. I really could care less about their private lives. And that is the thing here, it is private and should remain that way. I won't apologize for not wanting these aberrant folks in my private spaces. Make no mistake about it, bathrooms are private areas restricted to the gender designated on the door ! That is why it says boys and girls !  Should a school or place of business choose to designate a facility clearly marked for them, That's fine.
 I do get annoyed with this narrative that if I disagree with their choices I am somehow prejudiced or wrong. I do have that option, to disagree I mean. That doesn't mean I hate you, want to kill you, or anything else. What it means is you are in the .3 % and I am in the majority, whatever that majority would be. Others may not be in that .3% and have no problem with your choices, that is also their choice. I do believe the majority of the population would just as soon leave things alone. Boys go to the boys room, girls go to the girls room. Hey, I'm just saying I'm a white male Caucasian. I could dye my skin and have a sex change operation. That will not make me a black female ! You do not get to decide what you are. You can decide what you want to be, I'm not arguing that, but you are what you are. The whole thing is ridiculous. Transgenderism, if that is even a thing, is aberrant behavior. I will not validate that behavior by making special provisions for their desires. I just won't do it.  All I'm saying is stay out of my bathroom. It's not alright.
  

Professional Crafter ?

  Do we buy stuff to satisfy a need for the object, or is it something more ? That thought came to me last night. You see my wife is an expert at crochet and often makes things for others. She has made all types of things and some she has offered for sale. I'm certain that anyone that has crafted anything by hand knows the time involved in making even the simplest of things. Generally speaking folks don't want to pay much for those items, often not even the cost of the material used to fabricate the item. I believe that is because they don't understand the skill and patience it requires. And that is also why I think we have become such a consumer driven society. Lacking a sense of accomplishment in having created whatever it is we want, we try to fill that void with money. We try to buy that satisfaction. We take pride in our purchases rather than in our accomplishments.
 I'm struggling to explain my thoughts. What I'm saying is in years past we had to make our own stuff. We appreciated the time and skill it took. We took pride in that accomplishment. We then took care of the things we had, keeping them in good repair and treasuring them from one generation to another. That certainly isn't happening today. It is true that many of the things we want or need would be impossible for us to make at home. I do think that has left many of us frustrated. I can't make the things I need, so I have to buy them. In order to buy them, I have to have money. And the circle continues. There is always the desire for more.
 A hobby was something done for entertainment. Some still call it that, but more commonly it is called crafting.  Why is that ? Why the change ?  Crafting sounds better, more skillful. Takes a craftsman to craft doesn't it ? That is the inference. Many of these crafts  practiced today where essential life skills in years past, you know back when you couldn't just buy everything. But is this buying of things leaving an empty spot in our lives ? I do think we all have an instinct to provide for ourselves and others. Is crafting an attempt to satisfy an essential human need ? The need to provide for ourselves, survival, and the need to care for others. More importantly perhaps is the answer to the question, can we buy this satisfaction ? I think we can convince our self that it does. The more money we have the easier it is to convince ourselves of that, is also my thinking. Maybe that is why we don't want to pay for " handmade " items. Manufactured items are superior ? That is certainly an economic perception that is why we will pay more for them. Strangely most folks will disagree with that statement though, saying there is nothing like handmade until they have to pay for that item that is, then the monetary value drops considerably. Wealthier folks will often insist upon hand crafted items of the highest quality. I wonder if it is the quality they want or the prestige of being able to afford it ? It is true money is much better if you can flaunt it. Perhaps the acquisition of the most expensive items is a manifestation of that.
 It is all about professional. Everything has to be professional grade or done by a professional. What is a professional ? Someone that gets paid to do a job. It is as simple as that. We tend to believe professionals are expert at doing whatever it is that they do. Nothing could be farther from reality. Yesterday I could not spell carpenter. Today I was hired as one, I'm a professional carpenter. Works that way with everything. So if you want someone else to do whatever you hire a professional. If you do it yourself it is called crafting. The things made by a crafter are not professionally made though. Unless someone pays you to do it, then you're a professional ! I wonder if I could become a professional crafter ? It's all very confusing. I've even confused myself this morning. What am I talking about ?  

Hobo's, home, and the homeless

  There are times when in the course of a conversation I am reminded of a blog I wrote some time back. Then, I'll go in search of that posting and read it again. I often find I do not like the style in which it was written or the words chosen. I am surprised when I find my opinion has changed on whatever topic I was discussing, yes I talk to myself, but have yet to pen a rebuttal. I think it is entirely possible to rebuke oneself. In fact, I highly recommend doing so when the situation warrants it. Yesterday I had such an occurrence. Reading an older blog that is. Now I still agree with what I was saying so no rebuttal required this time. In all fairness though, perhaps I was being insensitive ? Nah, I was just being what the kids call "snarky. " Us older folks would use the word snide. The English language is an ever growing thing. I wonder if they added words in Latin all the time. I mean, where those old people cool ? I'm getting off track here.
 The old blog I was reading was really a question. It would make an interesting term paper for anyone studying sociology. When did Hobo's become labeled as homeless people ? First I suppose you have to answer the question, do hobo's still exist in America ? I don't think they do. My idea of a hobo was formed back in the sixties. A hobo was a man, you didn't see female hobos, carrying his belongings in a rag tied to the end of a stick. Why they didn't use a backpack was never questioned., but they didn't. They hopped on freight trains and moved about the country. They lived in the jungle ! At least that is what was said of them, they lived in a hobo jungle. Some books called them transient workers. That was because the majority of those hobos would work for a meal or a few dollars, then move on. I've read about them some, they had there own secret language too. Well, it wasn't really a language but a series of markings, like gang graffiti, that told other hobos certain things. Things like this house is good for a handout, or a doctor lives here , others indicated to stay away from certain places and people. It was quite the system. But I don't see any evidence of that today. Shoot a hobo was one of our favorite costumes for Halloween. Hobos were kinda lovable folks after a while, who could forget Freddy the freeloader.
 But this is where the question comes in, when did they go from hobo to homeless ? Hobos moved around all the time, except when they were in their jungles, but homeless people stay put. Fact is they are more like squatters than anything else. Homeless people are often thought of as scary, mentally unstable folks. In more recent times the image has changed to folks that are down of their luck. Homeless folks have wives and children. They may have pets as well. What they don't have is a home. Society has taken to providing shelters for these folks. What I'm wondering about is when did the change take place ? I'm certain their were women and children that didn't have homes when I was a child, what did they do back then ? They weren't hobos. I just don't remember hearing anything about that situation. I heard about gypsy's , but never saw any. Gypsy's were like rich hobos, they had wagons and took the families with them. I guess it never really caught on in America but I hear they exist in foreign countries, especially Romania, Dracula was from Romania. When I was little I was told Gypsy's bought little children. I'm not sure why they did that, but I would be threatened with that. I'll sell you to the Gypsy's ! Maybe those Gypsy's sold you to Dracula was my thought.
 I can't but wonder if the more charitable we become as a society towards these folks, the more we will see of them ? Now I'm not talking about the unfortunate ones that wind up in that position through no fault of their own. Nature disasters' and just plain bad luck can and will place folks in an untenable position.
 What I'm wondering about are the ones that do so by choice. Hobo's lived that lifestyle mostly because they wanted to. At least the literature I have read about them says that was the case. They are those folks with a restless spirit. They would rather not be tied to any one place or thing. In a way, like the cowboys were. Moving from place to place, working a little, then moving on. There is a portion of the homeless population that feels the same way. Why work and worry about life when you can just live it. We tend to think of those folks as either bums or having mental issues. We have taken to trying to " cure " these folks. Set them on the straight and narrow as the saying goes. So why does that population seems to be on the rise ? It is a good social question I think. If I don't mind setting aside all sense of pride and dignity I can be given all I need without any effort on my part at all. I'll even be told to be " proud " of who I am and that there is " dignity " in my life. I will be pitied and fawned over, used to soothe the conscious of those caring for me. It is in the nature of some to take advantage of a situation. If we continue to offer better situations for free, will the acceptance of these situations increase ? I'm thinking that just very well may be the case. How many people do we have today receiving " assistance " for the various government agencies ? Thing is that " assistance " is the only thing providing " subsistence " for these folks. So isn't it a bit of a misnomer then ? Are these folks not then wards of the state ? They are not " homeless " folks for the most part, although some play that part.
 It's a bit of  problem. What to do. Do we need to do anything ? The perception is the ones living on the street are homeless. They are there by circumstance not by choice. Are they hobo's ? No, I don't think they are. Were the hobo's replaced by migrant workers and illegal aliens ? They are the ones that are doing those odd jobs the hobo's once did. In the big cities we have day workers. They stand around in certain locations and get hired to do a job a day. They are like stationary hobo's ! They may or may not be homeless.
 Well, like I said, it would make an interesting term paper for a sociology student. To me, it is just a passing thought. My wife just sent a dish of stuffed shells to help feed the homeless living in the shelter. If you're living in a shelter are you really homeless ? I rent my place so it's not really my home, am I homeless ? I don't own a yacht or rent one, so I'm yachtless ! Strange no one is clamoring to help rectify that situation. Maybe that'll change in the future.
 Now this whole blog is meant for entertainment only. I am not condemning the homeless or making any negative statement in their regard. It is merely a question I asked myself some time ago and revisited again today. When did we go from Hobo's to homeless ? I remember one man in particular. I didn't think of him as a hobo or a homeless person. He was just a person that lived in a box in the woods and liked to drink a lot. Yes, he was called the town drunk by some. Yes, he would ask for money, but never in an aggressive or threatening way. Yes, he would work odd jobs to feed his habit, what we now call an addiction. The local Police would incarcerate him come cold weather, went to the county jail. He was released in the spring and would resume his habit. He was a pleasant enough fellow and stayed to himself for the most part. Did he need saving ? Maybe, maybe not. I think he made his choice and he was entitled to that. Never knew him to hurt anyone in any way. He looked like I imagined a hobo to be, without the cloth sack on a stick and bowler hat. He didn't ride the rails though. His home was a cardboard box. He wasn't homeless in my eyes, lived right across the street from the supermarket as a matter of fact. He could be found there most of the time. If he wasn't there check the cemetery. He might be visiting his friend there, sharing a sip a wine with him. I don't know whatever happened to him but I hope he was placed next to that friend. Homeless no more.

The neighborhood house

 Folks from my hometown will know immediately what this blog is about. The neighborhood house isn't really a house at all, but what you might call a community center these days. It is situated in a portion of town I knew as round swamp. That was a shortened version of around the swamp I've been told. Strange thing is, I never saw any swamp at all in that general area. Not saying it isn't there just that I never saw it. There is an old cemetery there as well, I've got ancestors resting there I'm certain of that. I can't tell you right off which ones but they're there alright.
 But, back to the neighborhood house. I had heard my mother talk about it being there when she was a child. Mom was born in '29 right before the stock market crashed. When she was older her sisters told her it was her fault. The neighborhood house was used for community events and activities. Mom said they had quilting bees and such there. Right behind that building there was a clinic at one time as well. You local historians can fill in the details. I just remember it as a place I played basketball. I didn't go there often or for very long but do remember.
 On the right hand side of the building there was a basketball court. It was a rather odd arrangement. The court was as wide as the building so there was essentially no sidelines, at least not for spectators. There was a single row of chairs for the players on the " bench. " The spectators sat on a stage at one end of the court. That's right it was a stage used for plays and such. I was told by mom she saw a one man band play on that stage as a child. My Uncle Bob was quite the musician and the man let him try that setup. Mom says Uncle Bob played as well as the  entertainer. I wouldn't know about that but did hear Uncle Bob play his instruments one time. He was proficient at several and I was impressed. At the other end of the court were doors that led to a " locker " room. I was only about 12 or so and don't remember too much about that room. I was in there I'm certain of that much anyway. That was when I was playing basketball.
 I played for the church team. St. Lukes church, along with all the other churches in town sponsored a team. There were no tryouts, everybody that wanted to play was on the team. So, there were different ages as well. Like I said I believe I was about twelve and my brothers played too. They would have been sixteen and almost eighteen. I didn't get much playing time. I wasn't even very knowledgeable about the game itself. Living down to three mile harbor, on a dirt road, there wasn't any basketball courts. I didn't have a place to practice much but it didn't matter either. Anyway I remember taking the court for St. Lukes. It was quite a thrill to walk out on that hardwood floor, under the lights with folks watching from the stage.
 I remember one game in particular. May have been my first for the team but I can't say that with certainty. I was given the ball and drove to the basket. Pulling up short I made a jump shot and in it went. Two points for St. Lukes and I was pretty happy with myself. The rest of the first half was played and I scored no more. Following the halftime intermission, the cheerleaders performing their routines, I took to the court once again. It could be there just weren't enough players and that is why I got so much playing time, but the thing is I was out there. I remember getting the ball again, dribbling down the court, splitting the defense, I was on fire and threw up a layup ! Score ! I remember feeling like a star, hearing a lot of shouting and reveling in that moment. Then I heard what was being said. I had scored, for the other team ! I didn't know you changed baskets after the half ! I hadn't split the defense, they got out of the way ! Well, that was embarrassing. I can't honestly say I remember much more about that game. Today I like to excuse that as the only " Christian " thing I could have done. Two points for us, two points for them. I played other games but don't remember any of them. I do remember getting hit in the face with the ball. It broke my glasses and made quite the cut above my eye. The scar is there to this day.
 Those are my memories of the neighborhood house. A basketball game and almost getting my eye poked out ! LOl, good times in the neighborhood. Oh, I do remember going there with my father and great grandfather. That was the distribution point for those boxes of food the government handed out. That was before there was welfare checks. You got food to eat, whatever the government gave you, and that was it. I remember folks being damn glad they got that. I remember that mostly because Dad sure was busy letting everyone know it wasn't for him ! I don't think Great Grampa was none too pleased about it either but had little choice. That must have been sometime in the sixties. Gramp didn't want the cornmeal and gave it to my sister and I. We played with it and made " pies ." Wasted good food now that I think about it. He gave us the can of peanut butter too as he couldn't eat that, said it stuck to the roof of his mouth. We ate that, it was good peanut butter, you had to stir the oil back into it !
 As far as I know the neighborhood house is still there. I imagine it is serving much the same purpose as it always has. At least it's a comfort to think so.    

Can the spiritual and practical coexist ?

 In light of recent events in the country and indeed the world I find myself struggling with this question. Can the spiritual and practical co-exist ? I think we must begin that analysis by defining just what the spiritual is. It does mean somethin different to each of us. For some it is just the feeling of a presence, vague and undefined, guiding what we call our spirit. For those on the other end of the spectrum it is a strict adherence to whatever sacred document delineates the actions necessary for compliance. I do believe that is the final goal of any spiritual person, to be in compliance with whatever law rules the universe. The reward for doing so may certainly be different to those individuals as well. Whatever ones notion of Heaven may be, so to speak.
 Among the many spiritual philosophies the Judeo-Christian one currently is in the majority, followed closely by Islam. Many predict that will change within the next decade or so. It is interesting to note that Islam was taken from the Judeo-Christian  tradition and added to by Mohamed. Mohamed claims to have been instructed by Gabriel as the messenger of God. So, I think it fair to say both religions share the same roots in spirituality. That is the difference though, the way the religion is practiced, in the adherence to a text rather an adherence to the spiritual nature of the people as individuals. In other words, following the instructions of a leader. And I'm thinking that is were the wheel sometimes falls off the whole thing. When those leaders begin to interject their own agendas. Certainly there is evidence enough of that throughout history. An outward display of adherence to the religious doctrine of the times has motivated many a war and continues to do so. I don't believe that will ever change. The church has always been a hotbed of political activity either directly or indirectly.
 That brings me to the main topic. Can spirituality and practicality co-exist ? It is my belief that they can. Religion and spirituality however are different thing altogether. Remember religion is the " official " practice of your spirituality. Religion is how you do it ! Spirituality is what you feel. It all begins with the basics. We are all born with the instinctive nature to know those basics. The founding fathers of America knew it and best expressed that with those unalienable rights. The golden rule tells us the same thing. Every major religion in the world preaches that simple truth. From that instinctive knowledge man began to add in stuff. Whether it was done with the genuine belief of divine intervention or by some nefarious design is open to debate. And it is there that faith enters the door. The spirit has little to do with the decisions that follow.
 We often hear that phrase, moved by the spirit, but what does it mean ? Is it God or whatever force rules the universe ? That is what we are taught. Does this entity interact with us on a personal basis ? Many believe so and I wouldn't disagree, although at times I believe it to be highly presumptuous of us. Surely a being of such magnitude and importance can't be bothered with me, with over 7.5 billion mes'. On the other hand he/she or whatever may just as easily be capable of such a thing, after all God rules the universe. So, what does being moved by the spirit really indicate ? I would say it is nothing more than making up our mind about a course of action. This spirit moving me to do whatever. But is it really the spirit ? Yes, although that spirit has been heavily influenced by the society in which we live. I don't believe that could be denied. Our " spirit " is directed by whom ? If it where truly directed solely by our God we would all be infallible, sadly we are not. Ah, but that is what free will and choice is all about you say. Yes, it is. From the moment we learn to understand language and the world around us we move away from the spirit. It is a necessity. We don't have that choice, not really. It is solely a practical thing to survive in that society. Non conformance will have unwanted results, we learn that quickly enough. So we adapt. The truth is we adapt to the benefit or ourselves, not those around us. Then we begin to insist that those around us follow those rules. Isn't that how a religious practice is formed ? We institute rituals and procedures to obtain the reward we desire. And what is that reward ? Life after death is the prevailing prize. It is what everyone wants, to go on living. Me too.
 The problem inherit in all of this is in actual practice. Looks good on paper doesn't it ? It does right up until it affects you on a personal level anyway. It is quite easy to tell others how they should act. Self help books abound, religious instruction has been institutionalized, entire nations have based their government on religious ideology. Those nations have been in conflict with governments that do not subscribe to that policy since the very beginning. It doesn't have much effect on commerce between the two however, a practicality. And there is the rub currently. Nothing new really it has been going on for centuries. Commerce is being affected in a negative way and so the tensions have risen once again. This time however it has gotten on a more personal level. When it is nations much can be ignored, when it is next door though, well that's a different scenario altogether.
 This time it involves the spirituality of the people not necessarily the religion they practice. This time it is a choice of doing what is spiritually correct or maintaining the society as we know it. It is quite the dilemma. An old dilemma for sure and one not likely to be resolved without great unrest. It is the dilemma revolutions and wars begin with. Which is the greater concern ? Personal wealth and safety or being truly spiritual ? It is a choice that must be made, no matter the discomfort it may cause. One can either move forward on faith alone or make reasoned judgements. I can be of a spiritual nature while making reasonable judgements. The spirit is instinctive with judgements are learned responses to a situation. Few have the spirit to stand in the face of imminent death or severe discomfort and not react in some fashion. It is easy to tell others what to do, citing a religious text or doctrine, but eventually practicality will dictate the course of action. Personally I seldom find the two in conflict. I'll do what needs to be done. I can do so because I believe I was granted free will. That free will is not dictated by society or text books but by my own judgement. I also believe in the end I will face his judgement, and that is how it is supposed to be.

taking advantage ?

 My son from upstate New York is down for a short visit. His brother in law is attending a conference in the city of Baltimore and so my son and his family came along. They're staying at my place while he attends the conference. Billy, that's the brother in law, called yesterday and said he would have some time tomorrow away from the conference. One of the big attractions in Baltimore is the inner harbor. It is a tourist destination as well as a working seaport. The " inner " harbor is full of little shops and restaurants and all the typical touristy stuff. It is quite beautiful and protected. Lots of police presence to maintain the family atmosphere vital to the tourist trade. Like most major cities a few blocks way can be quite different. Anyway, Billy called and invited us to come walk around the inner harbor with him. The wife and I respectfully declined that invitation. The reason is a simple one, to us it is not an attraction. Isn't that the way it always is ? I've touched on this subject before, the things in our own backyard are not an attraction to us. Strangely it is true even when you haven't seen them ! I'm guessing it is simply because we figure we can see then anytime. In the case of the inner harbor I'm waiting for warmer weather and for the " season " to start. At least that is the excuse I'm using this time. With Billy he figures to take advantage of the situation. I see no advantage at all. Strange how it doesn't seem right to be taking advantage of a situation, but you feel compelled to do so at the same time. I guess sometimes it is right to take advantage. Anyway, the wife and I can go see the inner harbor any time the mood strikes us.
 I have written about this in the past and offered advice about it as well. I said, get out, explore your town and the surrounding towns. Go see the attractions, and the things that are not attractive, hidden little treasures. I confess I've done very little of that. I'm always putting it off and finding an excuse. If it isn't gas prices, it's the weather. It seems if I don't have a destination, I don't go anywhere. Funny how that works, isn't it ? That could be said about life in general as well. I don't seem to have a destination in mind. That's because I'm a free spirit ! That is what I tell myself anyway, I won't be tied down. Yeah, but I keep myself on a short leash most of the time. I just don't go wandering the neighborhood. It is my feeling many others don't as well. Seems like in more recent times one has to be awful careful not to trespass. I remember a time when if you wandered onto someone's property you would be met with a hello. Now, you're more likely to be met with a lawsuit. Folks just don't assume you're lost anymore I guess. As a kid I wandered around the woods behind my house. No one every said a thing about that, probably the property owner didn't even know. But, once or twice in my wanderings I came across a home back up in those woods. On at least one occasion I was offered a cold drink of water and told where the road was, if I cared to go home that way. I didn't and went back the way I had come.
 When I worked at the grocery store I spoke to everyone. I was always amused by their reactions. The older folks would most likely give you a friendly hello right back. The middle aged ones, in their thirties or so, usually just gave me a strange look like, what is he going to try and sell me. The teenagers and early twenties bunch thought I was crazy. The little ones though, they always smiled and said hello, sometimes sharing their toys or a thought or two. I'm getting celery sticks or I'm helping Mommy with the shopping. I enjoyed that. I certainly met a lot of folks but have no idea where they lived. I'm assuming Greensboro and the surrounding area. Now, folks around here are friendly enough, for the most part, but difficult to make friends with. I understand that completely, was the same way where I grew up. Thing is, there has to be some attraction, something to take advantage of, before that action takes place. What is in it for me. If there is no advantage, there is no attraction.
 It is all human nature I suppose. I'm no different than anyone else and find myself doing the same thing. I do try and remind myself about that though. I enjoy sharing things with people. I get far more enjoyment out of sharing than I do keeping something to myself. I see no point say in having a collection and keeping it hidden from view. What enjoyment is there in that ? If I have two bottles of soda I'd rather share one with someone else, enjoy their company, than keep the other bottle for myself. The attraction to them may be the free soda, that is true, but the advantage was mine. I got their company. Of course I might have regrets later on. Life is funny that way you just can't tell sometimes.
 It pays to have an advantage. That is a simple fact in this world. The obvious ones being wealth, power, and influence, not necessarily in that order. How a person uses that advantage is what defines them. Are they the bully ? It is easy to slip into that role and many do it unawares. They feel they are doing a service. But what of attraction ? What makes a person attractive to another ? I don't mean in a physical way, that is chemistry and biology, but you want to be their friend. It has nothing to do with age or sex but everything to do with the fact their presence pleases you. I can find that whether I am physically in the presence of another person or through social media. In the old days we called them pen-pals, remember that ? That is what I'm talking about, that type of attraction. But was there an advantage ? Only as long as one person wanted to hear from the other.
 I'm not sure what all this has to do with anything. I just started writing as I usually do. For me it is a continuing discourse. I do need to get out and about more though, take my own advice. I'll wait for warmer weather though, Life goes on much the same as it always has.   

Clams and a gull

 It would have been the summer of '66 or thereabouts. Once the century clicked over my memory for years got a little fuzzy. Strange how that is and I still occasionally have to remind myself it is 20 and not 19. Why just the other day I realized the new school was forty five years old. Where did all that time go ? It is something we all ask ourselves and the answer is never an easy one. Some years are more memorable than others. But back to 1966. I lived down to three mile as we said in those days and there weren't many neighbors. At least there weren't any boys my age close by. Oh, Barry Collum lived down on Soak Hide just a short distance away but we didn't hang out that much. No particular reason that I can think of, different interests is all. I had decided to go clamming. Yes I thought I would just go scratch up a mess and treat the rest of the family.
 I didn't own a clam rake back then but knew where I could borrow one. Aunt Francis lived just up the street and had several. She wasn't really my aunt but that is what we called her. That is what was used in place of maam or Mrs. where I grew up. If they were a friend of the family they were aunts or uncles as the case may be. I don't recall anyone having a gender issue back then so it was a fairly straightforward thing you know. Anyway, Aunt Francis loaned me her rake. Now her rake was a real old one. It was cast iron and had no attached basket to catch them clams in. You had to rake them up and flip that rake over to catch the clams on the tongs. Barring that, you just reached down and picked them up off the bottom by hand. That will get to your back mighty quick. So having a rake, I picked up a bushel basket, they were always lying around. Burlap bags were always around too. It is what happens when you live in a fishing and farming community. I found a short length of line, it wasn't rope, cowboys use rope, to make the basket fast. What I needed now was an inner tube. Off to Olympic Heights service station to get one. That gas station was run by George Rosen and Ed George at the time. Both fine men and sympathetic to a boy needing an inner tube. All I had to do was ask. I was given an old one that came out of a car tire. Yup, it was before tubeless tires really caught on. I inflated that thing and discovered it had a hole. No problem though, Mr. Rosen let me use his tube patching kit and I had it ready in no time.
 I had all my gear collected and was ready to go. Hands creek was the best place I knew to get some clams. Hands creek was full of cherrystones, chowder clams could be found over to Sammis beach. It was those cherries I was after though, to eat on the half shell. I liked them steamed too but not today, today was going to be clams on the half shell. Figured on getting a mess of them ! It was quite a good walk to get to hands creek from the garage so I kinda hung around a bit, looking forlorn. Didn't take long before somebody stopped in to get gas and was headin' down that way. I got a ride ! It was fine, nothing to worry about, I didn't know this guy but he knew Uncle George so that was good enough, I mean, what could happen ? So, I got down to hands creek and the tide was going out. That's a good thing and I got right to it. Turns out the clams were nosing and you could feel them with your toes. That sure makes for some easy clamming, let me tell you. Just feel them, put the rake down and give a few pulls, and up they come. Now, I had that basket inside the inner tube to float it. It was tied to my waist by that line so as not to drift off. That's how you do that in case you didn't know. Walking along feeling those clams and putting them in the basket. It gives a boy a chance to think about things. In 1966 I would have been 13 and don't really remember what I was thinking about. May have been that red headed girl on the bus. I don't remember her name anymore but remember that red hair. Exotic like I would say. She wasn't paying any attention to me that much was certain. I did like to watch the gulls circling around and the sailboats coming and going. There is some that would say lying on the beach getting a tan is about the most relaxing thing there is. I would disagree, walking along with your clam rake, scratching up a mess of clams is the best therapy for the soul I can think of. A therapy I haven't enjoyed in many years. And the truth of it is, even if I went it wouldn't be the same. That is all in memory now.
 Well, I did get a mess of clams that day, near a bushel. The sun was down in the west a bit. I used to try to tell time by looking at the sun, like they do in the movies. I found that I wasn't very good at that at all. I knew it was time to head home. Now the problem is, how to get that bushel of clams home. A bushel of clams ain't no joke, those rascals are heavy. There were some folks there with little kids. Hands creek was also a great place to go swimming with little ones because the water wasn't too deep. You would have to get a good ways off shore to have it much more than three feet. They just had regular cars though, I needed someone with a truck, or at least willing to put that basket in the trunk. Wasn't much I could do but wait. I do remember a man coming down to check the bay. It was a common practice with the local folks, go check the ocean, make sure it is still there and then ride down and check the bay. I traded him a couple dozen clams for a ride home. It worked out great.
 Hard to believe all that was so long ago. I can still taste the salt in the air and hear those gulls screeching and squawking. I can feel the rake in my hands and the gentle tug of the basket as I walk. Such a peaceful thing, clamming. I expect it is something like those folks doing Yoga must feel, almost mystical. If I had told my father that thought he would still be laughing, and he passed away 27 years ago. It was an innocent time back then, where did it go ? You know I have a gull as my profile picture. I have been asked about that a couple times. Here's the reason. My father was a hard working man, always busy doing something. A no nonsense kind of man, like the majority of them old folks were. When I didn't meet up to his standards of productivity so to speak, he would say this. Boy, you're just like a gull. Don't do nothing but eat, shit and squawk ! Excuse the language but that is what he said. So, that gull seems fitting for a social media account as I don't get much accomplished in using it. There is an old fable Jonathan Livingston Seagull that I particularly enjoyed. I remembered this passage most of all.  “Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding. Find out what you already know and you will see the way to fly.” The book came out in 1970 and was required reading. I still have a copy on my bookshelf to this day. So, yeah that gull means a few things to me.  
    

It's simple

  Trying to maintain this blog of mine is getting to be a challenge. I'm running out of things to talk about. The original intent was a sort of telling of my story. I feel that it has taken a few turns from that. Now I'm discovering that I am returning to that although in a different sort of way. I have started to present more social commentary. It may prove of interest to some folks in the future as a sort of documentary of the time. Similar to reading old letters I imagine. Alas, they are just the thoughts of a common man. Were I a person of note it would be quite different, but I am well aware I'm just a footnote in all of this. Still, footnotes are important , my English teacher said so.
 Yesterday was a day without immigrants. At least that is how it was billed by the media. It was the first time I've heard of that. I was later informed this idea was started by some high school students in the 90's. Interesting. The whole thing was just a passing interest to me. It didn't effect me in the least. I admit to not having studied the objectives of this " movement. " It just appeared to me as another protest against reality. That happens a lot these days. Folks don't like something or someone so they protest it ignoring reality altogether. Yes, it would be nice if every man trusted every other man to do the right thing, to love one another, and we could all ride unicorns. The reality is quite a bit different. All I can say is this. if you want me to appreciate and respect you don't stage a protest ! What that will accomplish is making me either angry, or to ignore you altogether. That " day without immigrants " thing I just dismissed. To me one of the worst things that can happen to you personally or in a group, is to be dismissed as insignificant.
 It has been pointed out to me that everything isn't black and white. I can't argue with that statement. Things are certainly a great deal more complicated than that. There is no debate. In the final analysis though you do have to decide upon a course of action. That is the black and white part I am so fond of. There are times when that course is clear and others when it is obscured. The fact remains one has to choose. We are looking for answers. What we really need to know is the question. It seems like we can't even decide upon that ? Is there one answer that will satisfy everyone ? No, there is no one answer to a hundred questions. We do have to decide one question at a time. If you continually add variables to the equation one can never determine an answer. I enjoy the discussion but a decision must be reached.
 Well I'm not going to say my answers are correct all the time but I have an answer. I believe that is the best one can hope for, to be confident in their responses. It doesn't mean you have to defend that position till you die. I don't compare my answers to whatever the popular opinion happens to be at the moment. I reach my own conclusions and that is what I present as my answer. It is what I did in school and it worked out fairly well. I got a high school diploma ! It wasn't awarded on popular opinion but on answering the questions. Of course those question were rarely subjective rather they were objective. This country will do well if we can all decide upon the objective. I'm saying that is the question at hand, what is the objective ? Are we to be a strong independent nation or a charitable organization for the world ? An old proverb says, charity begins at home. I would say a nation 17.5 trillion dollars in debt can ill afford to offer more charity to anyone. We have already given to a fault.
 You know that statue, the scales of justice ? The lady is blindfolded for a reason. The meaning is obvious enough. Weigh legal against illegal and which way does the scale tip ? Nothing prejudicial about that. Weigh the pros and cons and the result will be the same. It really is that simple.

Changes

 There was a day when I could tell you where the phone booths were. I would check them for change as I passed by. One time in particular I found over a dollars worth ! Someone must have been making a long distance call ! Then I remember when my oldest brother had a wireless phone. It was of a type called a Radio Common Carrier. He couldn't just call anyone anywhere, it had to be within a certain range. It was quite the tech and expensive. That went away in the eighties when cell phones came into common usage. Now there are no worries about any of that, now we know where the Wi-Fi hotspots are, the free ones ! I expect one day, in the near future all wi-fi will be free. Well we'll be paying for it somehow, just not a direct billing I'm thinking. Maybe it'll be in the form of a tax. Nothing is ever completely free. Either that or it will required in every home, like electricity and plumbing.
 My grandson just got his learners permit. He was driving to his soccer game and I was riding along as required by law. I asked him about using his hand signals. After he figured out I didn't mean the signals on the car but using his actual hand, he says, I knew them for my bicycle but not for a car. After questioning him further he says it wasn't on the test. He doesn't know if it is in even in the handbook. Naturally I filled him in real quick about what those signals where. Mark says he doubts if anyone would know what he was doing if he did that. I couldn't argue with him about that, he's probably right.
 I'll tell you something else I just don't see anymore. When you sit down at a restaurant where is the pitcher of water ? The waitress used to always bring one. I don't go out to eat all that often so maybe they still do, just not where I go. Still, I remember getting a glass of water sitting at the lunch counter. I guess they still have those, don't they ? They just remodeled our McDonalds and put in a few counters like that, you know with a stool. McCafe they are calling it. We just said we were sitting at the counter. It was a place to have your breakfast sandwich and gab a little bit before going to work. At lunchtime it was a busy place. I surely would give an awful lot to sit at George Greens counter again. The old wooden floor, folks coming and going getting their newspapers, watching him work that grill. Takes me back, those memories, takes me way back.
 I went just about every other Saturday to get a haircut. Frank Liberts on North Main. It was Mr. Libert you gave me the first haircut I ever had. It was Frank that gave me my last before leaving for Navy boot camp. Liberts barber shop had a bay window and it was filled with comic books. I could sit in there and read those comics all I wanted too. Mr. Libert never run you outta there, no sir, as long as you was quiet. There was a set of steer horns on the wall, I always admired those. Two chairs, no waiting, it said on a little sign. Seldom did I see two chairs in operation at the same time though.  Mr. Libert always used the chair to the left. A haircut was two dollars ! That is what I remember. Rumor had it Mr. Libert was running numbers, whatever that was. I was told to never talk about that ! A lot of men came and went from that shop without getting a haircut I can tell you that. That would have been in the 1960's though, before we decided gambling was alright and to fund our schools from that.
 I've seen a lot of things change. Like Rocky said in that movie, I've seen a lot of changing' goin on,  and if I can change, you can change, we all can change. I wish we could all just change back to the way it used to be. Wouldn't that be nice ? Well it doesn't do much good to resist reality. It is what it is. As hard as it is for me to believe to these young folks this is normal. One day they will be looking back with fondness hoping for the same thing. Change, maybe not so much after all.

Succinct

 I have moved past anger to disappointment. You know how that goes don't you ? It is like dealing with children. You place your trust in them and wind up disappointed. You don't hate them or wish them punished you just feel disappointed. That is because disappointment is the erosion of trust. Trust, once eroded, is very difficult to replace. This is especially true when that trust has existed for some time. That is what has happened to me lately. I have been disappointed in those that I trusted. My confidence has been betrayed and it has damaged me. Yes, I cried out at first, a normal human reaction, but the initial shock has passed. It is very difficult to just resign, to accept what I once believed to be true, to be nothing more than a façade. I have seen beyond the veneer to the core of some and it isn't the substance I expected at all. Yes, it is a disappointment.
 I've started and stopped this mornings blog posting several times. In over two hours of writing and rambling I now believe I have summed up my feelings in one paragraph. Really, in one word, disappointed.  

old names, new places

 Every once and a while a memory will appear for no particular reason. I was writing yesterday when I remembered being in elementary school. When we came in we were told to hang our coats in the cloak closet. I hadn't given that a thought in over fifty years. It was just as I was writing my story that word just naturally came out. I have found that I remember most things in that fashion, in sentences. I can recall the teacher or whoever saying whatever it is I want to remember. I can even remember myself reading it almost as someone else was reading it to me. Unfortunately the last method isn't as effective. But, whatever the case or reason I do remember those cloak closets. They were grey in color and on wheels,two to a classroom, one for boys and one for girls.
 Those cloak closets, I always had trouble pronouncing that phrase, did serve another purpose. At least in one class there were used as a barrier. If you were to be paddled for misbehaving you were instructed to go behind the cloak closet. I can see my classmates going back there and shortly thereafter hearing a howl. I do remember a boy named Douglas Coleman going back there. The teacher hit him with that paddle, we all heard a yelp and then his glasses come flying over the top of that cloak closet ! It is just a picture I have never forgotten. I'm certain I made a few trips back there, although I can't honestly remember doing so. If so, I hoped Mom and Dad didn't find out. The punishment I would get from them would be worse. The wise person just kept their mouth shut and took whatever punishment was handed out.
 I wonder why that memory surfaced ? I guess it is simply because I was telling the story. Yesterday on Facebook some friends were talking about something similar. They were saying how we have a tendency to use old place names long after the place is gone. To be correct about it, they were talking businesses. You know how we will say the old post office building or whatever. Well in elementary school we had cloak closets and so it will always be so to me. The " new " high school was built 45 years ago. It is still the new school to me. Sometimes the old names go away for a while, then reappear. That usually happens when the new generation wants people to think they are old generation. They either read about it in a history book or some old timer informs them. For instance, here in Greensboro some years back where Main street and Sunset Avenue intersect was called " four corners. " The old timers know that and I was told about it. There is place called Hokum, the name revived by a developer. That is usually why they get revived, those old names, to be used as a marketing tool. The old name imparts a sense of history to whatever, it is just a psychological thing. I'm so old now that I remember having a cloak closet ! Maybe that term will come around again in a million dollar home. You know we put our galoshes in there too. I carried a lunch bucket, at least that is what Dad called it. I called it a lunch box. That was stored in the cloak closet too. My favorite was shaped like a barn and had a wide mouth thermos. My sandwich would be wrapped in waxed paper, neatly folded. Some cookies and a piece of fruit may be there as well. The thermos had milk in it. Sometimes it had Tang ! If it was good enough for an astronaut, it was good enough for me.  

being cultured

 I keep seeing the ads on television to get your dna tested. Then you will receive a pie chart showing your genetic makeup. One lady in the commercial is excited to discover her Native American heritage. She goes on to say, I had no idea. and I will investigate this further. In another one the guy trades in his lederhosen for a kilt. It is all very amusing. I consider having this done as I do find it of interest. We are all a mixture, of that I'm certain. What I find amusing is those that want to adopt a " heritage " based on those tests. I'm an American through and through. I'm certain of a good portion of my ancestors and where they came from. Scandinavian, German, and English. I'm betting there are others in there somewhere. People and their " urges " haven't changed all that much  over the centuries.
 Heritage is inherited. Okay, I understand that. It is culture that these folks attempt to adopt, not heritage. You can't adopt a heritage. I may study that culture and attempt to understand it but unless you live in that time and place you can not. I just find it a bit ridiculous to masquerade as something you are not. As I said, I have German heritage but I'm not German. I'm just having a hard time understanding why we are getting so fixated on being something from the past. Is it a desire to somehow take credit for the accomplishments of our ancestors ? I'm certain we don't want to take credit for their mistakes. Perhaps we get a feeling that we are somehow " owed " something based on that heritage. Strange how that works isn't it ? There are those that believe  I am somehow responsible for whatever my ancestors may have done. I'm not, nor is anyone else responsible for what happened in the past. Unless you were there, it's not your fault.
 If I found that I had a distant ancestor that was a Viking would that make me a Viking ? Not hardly. If I have a distant ancestor that was a Native American does that make me a Native American ? No. I'm an American born and raised. Where my ancestors may have originated will not change that. The composition of my dna will not change that. It may explain some physical features but not what really makes you, you. Genetic makeup and heritage are not the same thing. It could be that is part of the problem we are having these days. Maybe if we spent as much time and effort embracing the culture we actually belong too, we could reach common ground. We should learn from the past, not try to profit from it or live it !
 Culture is the characteristics and knowledge of a particular group of people, defined by everything from language, religion, cuisine, social habits, music and arts. That is what the dictionary says. It is those things that define a nation. Your dna does not contain that information. It is cultural differences that cause unrest. Confusing heritage with culture has the same result. If you are born into a certain culture that is what you will adopt, regardless of heritage. You can not adopt heritage and attempt to infuse it the culture in which you live. Attempting to do so will only cause unrest and incompatibility. That is especially true when the " heritage " we adopt is more myth and legend than actual fact.
 I may get my dna tested one day. It is a curiosity. I understand it may prove to be of some medical value as well. It could provide some more clues to the past. I don't believe I would be shocked to discover I have other ethic groups represented in my dna. I can't think of a single group that I would take issue with. Prejudice is taught by the society in which you live, not by genes. I take no credit for anything my ancestors may have done, good or bad. Sure, I can be proud of their accomplishments or ashamed, but I'm not responsible or accountable for that. The truth is I'm a human. That is what those 23 pairs of chromosomes prove. The rest of it is dependent upon time and place. Our heritage is being human, everything else is culture. We can even put those chromosomes in a test tube, develop a culture and it becomes a human. The human is created by culture, heritage has nothing to do with it.

My fathers son

 I do enjoy Facebook, most of the time anyway. I like seeing and hearing about what is going on in other peoples lives. I like to share my thoughts as well. Yeah, I catch some static about some and likes on others. I really do try not to take any of it personally. I don't always succeed but that just means I'm human. I do find it amusing when I discover an old name and put a face to it. I'm certain others do the same. What I mean is, coming from a small town you naturally know certain family names. Those family names are then associated with certain things in our mind and memory. My problem is there are times when my mind and memory aren't on the same page ! I may know the name, but can't place it in my memory. Does that make any sense to you ?
 It is totally unfair at times the associations we make. We may know what the father did or some other family member. Then we associate that activity with the name. For instance, take my father. Anyone that knew him would associate him with either being a builder or a mechanic. They would know of his personality. Now, they see me on Facebook and start making an association. But, am I my fathers son ? That's a good question isn't it ? My immediate answer would be, of course I am and proud of it. Is that the truth ? Well, that is something others would have to judge as I am biased in that regard. I did spend a good portion of my youth and young adulthood trying to be him. I've since moved on from that. I like to believe I have become my own man, albeit an imperfect one, but one of my own making nonetheless. I'm not saying I'm any more intelligent than anyone else but I think it is a fair assessment to say I am more cerebral than my father was, his was a tactile world. I like to think about things and he just liked to do them.
 It can be a shock to learn what others think when they contrast so sharply with your own. It is like the story of that country mouse and city mouse. Aesop's fables remember them ? I don't think the kids today are reading those anymore. The city mice are willing to live with danger and strife in order to have plenty. The country mouse would rather just eat in peace and safety. I'm thinking I am the country mouse. I can do with less if it means a peaceful life. Those city mice take too many chances if you ask my opinion. I do associate certain family names with city mice and country mice. In my case the " city " is nothing more than those people living in the Village, not an actual city. I did live in the country. It is those names and associations that I am trying to write about. I'm struggling to make my point here, bear with me.
 What is really happening is I am trying to associate a name with a perception. It is perceptions that form the basis for character. In other words, what I see or hear of you, or your family name. Sure we all went to school together but we didn't all know each other. I think it is safe to say the majority of us emulated our parents. We learned to value the things they valued. But at some point in our lives  the majority of us did change, if we had to. Some just continued in their parents footsteps, taking an easier path. That is why I am shocked on occasion by what I read of others. What would their parents have to say about that ? My own Dad left this earth in 1990 and so I don't have his opinion. Mom is 87 and convinced I'm half crazy. It's alright I don't mind, I'm comfortable with that. It would be interesting to hear what my father has to say. He was always straightforward and brutally honest. I may not like what he has to say.
 In a way being on Facebook and seeing the old names is like visiting. It is almost like going back fifty some years later and meeting those people all over again. Strange that they may or may not be anything like I expected. What do I expect ? That is the real question in all of this. I expect it to be fifty years ago and it isn't ! Strangely, it is a shock.

Wrath

 I was talking about this just the other day and thinking back to when I was young. This morning I turn on my computer and get the news. I follow a news site called the Caroline Circle that posts to Facebook. I live in Caroline county. We call ourselves the Green Garden county. With a population of a little more than 33,000 in 2010 we are quite rural. Caroline county does not have an interstate or US highway running through it. Still, I just read where a church in Denton, the county seat, was robbed. Yes, you read that correctly, one or more persons broke into the church and stole several thousand dollars worth of electronic equipment. The church was robbed !
 Like I said I was talking about this just the other day. I was saying how I remembered when the doors to the church were never locked. Sometime during the sixties that changed, at least in East Hampton at St. Lukes it did. I could be mistaken but I don't think it was too long after the wooden doors were replaced with the glass ones that are there now. I understood the necessity of doing so but found it incredibly sad. Where has our society gone when the church must lock it doors ?  Like a old wound it was opened up again by reading that news story. I remember when criminals respected the church, no matter what church it was. What happened to that ? Is the idea of eternal damnation really being dismissed that easily ? Aren't parents teaching their children to fear God ? I sure was and so was everyone I knew. The wrath of God was an ever present possibility ! Hey, not that myself or my friends took it deadly serious, but it sure gave us pause to think. Robbing a church didn't enter our thinking, although other sinful acts certainly did. I don't think you would be forgiven for that. Besides weren't the doors left open for us all to pray whenever the need arose ? The house of the Lord was never closed.
 Like everyone else I often think about the old days and the way things used to be. I can get nostalgic. I remember the " good old days " and wish they would return. I realize it wasn't all that I remember and things weren't always so great. There was injustice just as there is today. I just can't help wonder though, where happened to God in our society ? Is nothing sacred anymore ? Has that notion been cast aside in favor of legislation ? Is that all we are accountable too, the rule of Law ? I find it all so very sad. The equipment can be replaced. I hope the criminals are brought to justice. The real justice to me would be that whoever committed this despicable act find a fear of God in his heart. A genuine fear that his punishment is yet to come and there is no parole from it ! That would be real justice ! Understanding your own guilt and dreading the consequences is the wrath of God ! That is my feeling anyway. I don't fear lightening bolts and the hand of God striking me down. No the real fear stems from knowing what you have done and that judgement awaits. You can't escape that court date !

generations

 I was doing some work on the family tree yesterday. I didn't make any new discovery but revisited a past one. My Grandmother Bennett arrived at Ellis Island in 1899 when she was fifteen years old. That was 118 years ago. My Grandson just turned 15. I just got to thinking how much has changed over that time frame. Grandmother Bennett never drove a car in her life, Mark has a learners permit. When " nana " as I called her arrived she had exactly sixteen dollars on her. That's a lot of money though, about $ 457.67 today. So, judging by that I would say she was rather well off. I'm certain there were many years in her life after that when she had no such funds. America didn't turn out to be the land of milk and honey for her.
 Yes a lot has changed over those years. It is difficult to realize just how much. In 1899 automobiles were a curiosity. Truly resembling a horseless carriage they were something only the very wealthy would have had. A real luxury item that today is considered a necessity. Why it is second in cost only to our homes. Nana arrived by steamship after a fourteen day passage. It was crowded and really not very pleasant at all. Her only relief was when she went " on deck " to escape the foul air and crowds. She told me her first English words were, " ice cold milk and donuts " that she learned listening to a man hawking them. It is what she ate the most on her way over. She had to pass through Ellis Island and that wasn't a very pleasant experience either. You did have to undergo physical and mental examinations. It wasn't all " politically correct " like it is now days. You could just as easily be denied entry for just about any reason at all. Fortunately Grandmother was from a well to do family, a respectable bunch, and didn't have any health issues. Her Uncle was there to met here and " helped " her through the process.
 I only knew her as my grandmother. When I was small I didn't understand that she came from Sweden, another country. She looked like everyone else, she sounded like everyone else and was this little grey haired lady. I'd say I can remember her from about the age of five so that would have made her about 73. She had ten children ! She lived in a three bedroom home. She never received assistance of any kind from the government. Yes, she did get social security the last few years of her life. She kept a tiny Swedish flag in a cup on the shelf. That was the only concession I ever saw to her heritage. When I was older I did ask her questions about her home in Sweden but she seldom spoke of it. She certainly didn't proclaim that she was a Swedish-American. Her three sons all fought in WW2. All three did return home to her.
 The thing is, she was there for WW1,WW2, Korea and the Vietnam war. She lived through them all. She lived through the great depression. Think of all the historical events she witnessed. The Hindenburg disaster. Charles Lindberg flying across the Atlantic and Amelia disappearing. She saw the birth of radio and television. She saw it all. She passed in 1973 which doesn't seem that long ago to me. I was two years out of high school by then and half way through my first enlistment in the Navy. I have to say I don't think she has missed all that much. Hasn't been any wars since then but a lot of folks dying anyway for no clear cut cause. Yeah she never got to see a flat screen television or a real computer but so what. I'm glad she didn't see the twin towers tumble down or those folks blown up at the Boston marathon. I can remember her sadness that someone shot Kennedy. I can't imagine how she would feel if she could see the way humanity acts today.
 It is just hard to imagine that she arrived 118 years ago when I knew and loved her. One hundred and eighteen sure sounds like a lot of time but really it isn't. She passed 44 years ago so why does that feel like a lifetime to me ? It does seem like a long time ago and in a different world. I guess you don't really see things until you pass them. If we could look ahead, I mean really look ahead, things wouldn't be the same as they were. At least I hope that would be the case. There has been a lot of changes that much is certain. My grandson was born in 2001, a new century. I was born in the last century and Grandma the one before that. In the bigger picture much has remained the same, generation following generation. And so life goes on.

disappointing

 It started before the election. Political disagreements causing so much unrest. Folks have been rubbing each other the wrong way. It isn't letting up either. I have been guilty of the same behaviors and point no finger in any particular direction. I must say I have been surprised by some. They had a pretty good veneer but when it was rubbed through I saw there true substance. It was a bit disappointing in many cases. I suppose each of us have own set of values and it is hard to reconcile those values with reality at times. I have always been a bit of a pragmatist. I do tend to see the heart of the matter and accept that. Never saw much use in crying over spilled milk. A saying I grew with. What's done is done. If it was a good thing repeat it, if it wasn't don't. Fairly simple and straightforward I would say.
 I'm not one to block folks, but I admit to doing that on at least one occasion. Turns out it wasn't a good thing so I won't repeat that. I found that by blocking someone it grates on my conscience. The old practice what you preach thing. I also have a big old stubborn streak and so won't undo that action either. I'll justify it by saying, " I keep my word. " Now, isn't that silly ? Still, it is what it is. I don't hate that person. Fact is I never met the person and so only know whatever was presented to me. The veneer on that person turned out to be quite thin. It wasn't long before it rubbed completely through. Turns out that material was incompatible with mine.
 It must be difficult for those that perceive their social status as above the crowd to meet with disappointment. Take those celebrities for instance. They feel all self important because so many have told them that. A great deal of the folks telling them that stand to gain from that action. Others may be star struck. Many didn't get their way this time. Oh my, it is a tragedy, we're leaving the country. Then it struck them, a lot of folks don't care if you do ! Their existence, their entire worth is for entertainment. Maybe that is why they formed so many " associations " to give themselves awards. They got so magnanimous with their awards they even created a " Peoples Choice " award. Yes, we will let the peons decide, it'll be fun. If that isn't the epitome of arrogance I don't know what is. It is a long fall from the ivory tower.
 I've got my share of flaws I am well aware of that. I get reminded often, by myself and others. I do believe that pretense is not one of them. I don't pretend to be something I'm not. I never have and never will. The head doctors will say you suffer from low self esteem. Nothing could be farther from the truth, it is arrogance I must guard against, and I would say that is true for the majority of the population. It is arrogance that builds those towers isn't it ? The real issue with those towers is the foundation upon which they are built. They have a tendency to decay over time because of the materials used. I'm watching quite a few tumble down right now. It is truly ironic that a man that builds " towers " has caused so many others to fall. The elites are squirming ! I'm not saying his foundation is secure, only time will tell. Those towers can fall as fast as they rise.
 At the very least you know what you got. I hope that is true with me as well. I hope to be as truthful and open as I can. What I mean is, I won't censor myself to maintain a friendship. Friends are not censored. I don't have to agree with you to be your friend. I guess I can sum this up with an old phrase, all that glitters ain't gold. Isn't that disappointing !

just a game

 Just before Christmas another Casino was opened in Maryland, I think that makes six. They were talking to the manager of the newest one that was telling of record profits. Then they went on to talk with the manager of another that had lost 50 % of their business. Surprisingly this manager wasn't at all concerned, said, we expected that to happen. She went on to explain that the customer's like to try out the new product and she expects they will return. I can understand that. What really struck we was this statement. We have built an additional casino but we don't want to spread the customer base out, we want to create new customers ! Now, she referred to those customers as " gamers. " So let me see if I understand that correctly. What she is saying is she wants to create more gamblers ! No, she said gamers, is that something different ? No, it really isn't at all but sounds better doesn't it ? Another example of just changing the name to lend it an air of credibility or legitimacy. I suppose this has always been done, it isn't anything new, but we are really developing that into an art form.  I wonder if their is a Thesaurus dedicated to that ? If not you could make a lot of money publishing one. Need to make something not so good, a great thing ? I've got a word for that.
 We are all aware of the others in common usage. Undocumented substitutes for illegal is a prime one. Instead of saying we are going to commit murder we say it's a" choice. " In that way avoiding more unpleasant terms, like abort, terminate or just plain kill. How many terms have we applied to say someone is black ? What is politically correct today, African-American ? I can't even keep track of all that. Now this newest one, at least to me, gamer. Does sound better than gambler doesn't it ? Well, until you are broke that is, then it is no game. I do like the little posters they display with a phone number to call if you have a gambling problem, there are even public service messages on television about that.  It isn't a " gaming " issue though, it is a gambling issue. Soon we will be offering treatment, at the taxpayers expense, for this addiction. Again, not their problem.
 You could argue that people will gamble anyway. I wouldn't disagree with that. If they want to they will find a way. The thing is availability isn't it ? If I had access to a all you could eat buffet twenty four seven I'd probably be a great deal heavier than I am. I believe by providing all these avenues replete with food, drink, free parking, incentives they are encouraging this behavior. Gambling is a vice that is why it was pursued by, the " vice " squad. Perhaps that is why we call it gaming now. Oh it is a sticky wicker isn't it ?
 I'm not saying I'm innocent. I have been to a casino. I can see where it would be an enticement. When you win some money for doing nothing more than pulling a lever it is exciting. I'm just saying I don't believe we should be providing all these avenues, expressways really, for the sake of profits. The common reason is a percentage going to the children in some way or another. These casinos have been around for a good while now but the schools aren't any better off. How can that be ? Millions of dollars are supposed to be earmarked for that purpose where has it all gone ? What I do find the most troubling is this renaming of things. Gambling is gambling and is seldom a good thing. So we rename it and call it a game. A game implies there is no consequence, other than losing. In this case losing your money ! Then we will tell you it isn't your fault, you have an addiction. You won't get your money back but you will receive counseling. You might even get barred to prevent a relapse. No problem though, as far as the state is concerned, there are plenty of scratch offs and other " games " you can play. Then, even if you do win and your name is on the list, they won't pay anyway. It's for your own good.
 I don't know. All this is nothing new but when I heard that lady say, we want to increase the number of gamers, it struck a chord in me. Is that what we really want to promote ? Shouldn't we be trying to instill a sense of accountability and responsibility in our citizens ? State sponsored vice ? What does it say about us as a nation ? I do believe the narrative has changed over the years. The land of milk and honey ? Yes, we were promoted in that way for many years. It was achievable in this country by hard work and a moral lifestyle. Now, not so much. It is now possible for the state to give you money that you can spend at the casino, pursue that American dream. If you lose, no problem, we will give you more the next month. After all, it is just a game.

something different

 It was last April when I retired from the grocery. Last night my son calls and wants to know if I could come in and unload the delivery truck. The first and second stringers are all busy. Naturally I said yes. I feel like I'm being called off the bench. Put me in coach ! It should only take about an hour or so. But I'm sitting here already feeling the pressure. I told him I'd be there at 6:30. I haven't had to be anywhere that early since, well, last April. I admit it feels a little different. Is this the same feeling some " old " folks get when they have a doctors appointment ? Wait, I am the " old " folks now. At least that is what others probably see. I know my mother doesn't want to go anywhere a few days before a doctors appointment. I also know she isn't the only one. I've heard that from quite a few seniors. I can't go, I have an appointment. Their appointment may not be for a few days though. LOL, I'll have to guard against that.
 This morning I'll go to work, sorta. That'll be something different, a change in the old routine. I did enjoy the company of those I worked with but don't miss the job. Truth is, with one exception, it has always been that way with me. I enjoy the company of good people. I am a social person. I had jobs because I needed money. You have to do what needs to be done. Some jobs were better than others there is no denying that. The best job I ever held was upholstering furniture. I really did get a great deal of satisfaction out of that. That must be the type of job people have that they talk about being their life. Do you know what I mean by that ? The kind of job where you take pride in your craft. I wasn't a master at it but did have a few pieces displayed in the front window of the shop. It was a satisfaction.
 Circumstance forced me to make a decision and I left that job. In the big picture I have to believe I made the right choice. It certainly wouldn't do any good to bemoan a poor decision, now would it ? You certainly can't change the past and there is no need to beat yourself up about it either. No one got hurt by that decision and so I can dismiss it. Hey I was only 24 at the time and let's just say not the most mature 24 year old. Yes, I believed I had all the answers back then and just moved on. There was no hesitation. Well, as I said , no one got hurt. All that was a lifetime ago.
 I do believe it is true of us all. We don't mind working if we're doing what we want to do. Seems logical enough doesn't it ? I think it depends upon how readily we are convinced of our own talents ? I grew up with a father that I felt could do just about anything, and do it extremely well. The evidence was before me daily. He was a carpenter, plumber, electrician, mechanic, machinist, welder and waterman. He fired huge boilers at the fish factory for a few years, the only thing he admitted to not being able to fix was electronics. Thing is, I saw him do that a few times. In retrospect I see him changing jobs as he grew bored with what he was doing. He had enough talents that other jobs were always available to him. People like him are always in demand. He did change jobs often. In todays world they would say he had an unstable work history. They wouldn't be wrong.
 With the exception of the upholstery job, I went to work because it was necessary. I stayed in the Navy for twenty years because it was the logical choice. It has been possibly the best choice I ever made, with the exception of my wife, she is the best. But it isn't a  job I particularity enjoyed. No, I wasn't going around with this great sense of pride and patriotism. It was a job and one that needed doing. Following that I worked in a machine shop and that was alright. Good people and the job itself involved a diverse skill set. Still, I could have been doing something else. A few others followed that until I took employment at the grocery. I might say being retired seems like something I can do, and do well. Perhaps I have finally found my ideal situation ! I get " paid " and get to do pretty much what I want to do. And I get to do it with my wife, can't ask for better company than that. I really do like this new " job " being retired. Today I am being called off the bench, it is nice to be needed, I admit that. I've still got game, as the young folk say. It'll be different that much is sure.