telling tales

  It's a shame. All my very best stories are the ones I don't want to tell other people. It is like those meme's on Facebook, I'm fortunate that there is no record of my foolishness and missteps. The only people that know them beside myself are either passed now, or old. The dead tell no tales, and all my old friends I can just call senile! That isn't what happened at all. Still there are times when I would like to share those stories with others but my better judgement tells me to be quiet. I forget who said it but it is true, "better to remain silent and thought a fool than to open your mouth and to remove all doubt."  I will have been married for thirty eight years this November and have only recently begun to tell my wife some of those stories. In some of those stories the names are changed to protect the innocent. 

 But the truth about those stories is they are best only when shared with the participants. Those are the old memories we treasure the most, in some cases. We have all heard about Sailors and their sea stories and I certainly have my share of them, but we all have "sea stories" to tell. Those stories do not usually contain any good moral message, hold any redeeming value, but rather show our weaknesses and bad judgement. The things we have learned to laugh about, with no desire to repeat. Yes, it was fun at the time, seemed like a good idea, or otherwise ill advised, but makes a great tale to tell. 

 It is the stuff of nostalgia. That's the attraction to that. It's always fun to relate the tale with those that were there and hear their take on it. Rarely do the stories match. Your really close friends will not dispute your story, they show you that kindness. Others that may have been present, may not! Then we have a clash of memory. As I said, no evidence, no proof, no recordings or tweets exist and for that I am grateful. You know, people say they forgive and forget but I don't believe that. They may forgive but they don't forget. Judgement is based on past experiences and past behaviors. Fool me once and that whole thing. That's the way it works in the world.

 Another great attribute of those old stories is they are like a fine wine, they do get better with age. I'm old enough, been around long enough to see what was outrageous behavior in my teens become commonplace, almost expected. The downside to that is that it removes some of the excitement of the story. That happens when trying to tell succeeding generations the story. Those folks have yet to mature enough to appreciate that wine. It takes a refined taste to understand the subtilities of the past. After years of telling the story it does become more refined. When all possibility of offense or outrage has been removed the tale can be told. I guess you can say they become more a fable than a memory in many cases. The truth has been blurred just a bit. Still there is a bit of truth in every lie and every fable ever told. 

 I heard some stories about my father growing up, from his friends. Tales of his misadventures and poor judgment. He would neither confirm nor deny them. I often saw a wry smile on his face though and a bit of spark in his eyes. He was reliving that memory. The only stories he confirmed where the ones with a positive outcome, human nature I would say. I tell my stories a bit more readily than the generation previous to my own. That is true I think for every generation. The current one has to deal with all the recording and documentation of their actions. My grandson for example is very conscious of all that and is very careful about his "social" presence. Something I can say I never gave a thought to back in the day. I had lots of fun, worked hard, made good decisions and was a responsible citizen! Anyone telling you anything different is either a liar, suffering from altimeters or senile. I'm telling the story here. 

 Now if you want to hear some tales about those crazy people I did hang out with when I was younger, I've got a ton of those. Nothing wrong with my memory! I grew up in a very small town and so my choices were limited. I tried my best to be a guiding force in their lives. I admit, sometimes things went off the rails as the kids say today. Not my fault though. I've talked with a few of them over the years and they seem to have a different take on all of that. They're senile.