Just Me

Just Me
Look,I'm just sayin'

Sunday, April 9, 2017

a damn fine sail

 I was reminded of an old Merle Harrad song yesterday, the roots of my raising.  It is a song I can relate to and I think most of us can. I know it's cliché but they really don't write them songs no more. I suppose its' because they wouldn't sell. Especially in the country music market today where it seems to be all about " bro " country. I live in the country but have all the city values. The whole deal is rather confusing to me but then, I'm old. But, back to that song. I was chatting it up online and the topic was things our grandparents or parents would say. I'm certain every region in the country has there own sayings and we certainly have ours. Other sayings are universal I would expect, like, this hurts me more than it does you, muttered just before getting a lickin". Spankings was for little kids, I got a lickin'.  I never believed that, not one bit. Then I remember something other adults would say to you where that sent a chill down your spine. I'd hear Hey, you're that Reichart boy aren't you ? I knew what that meant. Whatever I had just done, or was thinking about doing, was going to be reported to Mom or Dad ! You were " fingered " before you got a chance to say anything. That was the roots of my raising ! Those roots ran throughout the town. Seemed like every adult in town tended to those roots as well. Yes, they could water those roots, but that wasn't likely unless you did something extraordinary. Extraordinary meant just that , nothing extraordinary about participating, you had better win if you expect a prize ! I was often told, your " spects " are likely to fall off. In a way it was like living in a prison only with a large exercise yard. You were free to roam the " yard " but any and all infractions would be reported to the warden ! Anyone older than you could act as the " guard " and report those infractions. With freedom comes responsibility was the lesson. You want to go uptown ?  You had better straighten up and fly right, was the admonition I heard the most. That or keep an even keel !
 As I read the comments of us those that I had grown up with all the memories come back. I say those that I grew up with but I'm really just talking about a time frame. I'd say this time frame was from the early fifties to the mid seventies. That was the time I stomped around those grounds. I knew some that came before and some that followed. It is a strange thing how when you are young a few years is a big deal. A senior in high school would never be seen with a freshman, at least not in my day they wouldn't. I do think a lot of that has changed though. When you're a adolescent or a young teenager two years is a long time. Now that I've reached 63 anyone within ten years of my age is close enough, about the same. Old people ? Mom is 86 and getting on, but old ? Well, not to me she isn't. Strange isn't it ?
 A generation is generally considered to be 70 years. That is the time from a mans' first child to his death, on average. Generations are getting longer now. I'm watching the last generation slowly fade away and am acutely aware of that. Each generation laments the generation that is following them. It is human nature to do so. Now, our next generation is our own kids. Darn kids think they know it all. Well, I tried is what I say under my breath. There is hope however, when I see the grandchildren,  I can make up for my own "" knowing it all " years with those grandchildren. What I mean is most of us raise our children during those years when we are convinced we " know it all. " I guess that is Gods way of giving us the strength to accomplish the task. We need to be more bull headed than the kids ! But, then we become grandparents. Grandparents really do know it all. At least that's my thinking. We have graduated to become grand ! It is then we return to the roots of our raising for inspiration and a degree a comfort.
  " The roots of my raisin' run deep, I come back for the strength that I need, And hope comes no matter how far down I sink, the roots of my raising run deep "
Are the lyrics to that old Merle Haggard tune and I couldn't agree more. Even when I have to follow those routes on this " information " highway they call the internet. Those roots run all the way to Three Mile Harbor, b'low the bridge as I say. There was another old saying I heard every now and again when I came home disappointed that I hadn't won the ballgame or caught any fish. Dad would put his arm around my shoulder and say, " you just never mind boy, you had a damn fine sail. " That was all the reassurance I got. No complaining, no participation trophies or other rewards. Nope. in his way he was teaching me that you don't always get want you want but that it is alright, just enjoy the day. At least that is what I got out of it.