Saturday, May 31, 2025

Passed

  The inevitability of aging. It isn't so much about health and doing the things you used to do. It isn't even about the changing times and how the world is going crazy. No, it is about those mornings when you wake up to discover another friend or acquaintance has passed. It is those moments that give you pause, a moment to consider that inevitability. The news never strikes the same way though, sometimes it arrives as a gut punch, taking your breath away, and at others it is almost a sigh of relief. A blessing bestowed on someone suffering. It really depends upon what has "passed." 
  It happened again this very morning as I turned on my computer. I had been on a short road trip and so off of social media. This morning I turned on Facebook to be greeted with that news and a sorrow swept over me. An old friend had passed. I was aware of his medical issues and recent struggles with that. In fact, the last news I heard from him was he was in the hospital. As was his nature he was upbeat and hopeful. We exchanged a few casual words. And that is exactly the way he would have wanted that to take place. In thinking about him it occurred to me never have I known a more honest man. By honest I mean, true to his beliefs and feelings, and always expressing them unfiltered, unbiased and well, just plain honest. 
  He was born the day after myself, in the same hospital. He lived less than 2 miles from my home, we attended the same church, the same schools, the same everything. I would go to his home and do the things young boys do. I knew his story up until I left for the Navy. Following that I didn't see my old friend but a few times, those rare occasions when I went "home." He was home. I knew the girl he married as she was in our circle of friends. The years passed and I lost track. Then social media came along and we reconnected on there. It isn't the same thing. I saw some photographs, heard a few stories but really didn't know much about how life had been treating him. So, he remains in my mind as the friend I knew through the 1960's. And that is a comforting thing. He will remain as a constant and constants are a great thing, a comfort to us all. The things we can count on. You could count on Tom.
  To those that knew him or interacted with him in any way there is much that could be said. Unique is a word that could be used to describe him. That he was somehow different can't be denied. There are those that would say unkind things about him, and that was because they didn't know him. But in my mind he had an almost childlike innocence about him, he took you at your word and expected you to do the same with him. Loyalty wasn't a word for him, it was action. A good man and a true friend. In the local parlance, "of the finest kind" We say things like, I'll miss him, but as for me I won't say that, I will say I will enjoy the memory of him. He truly was an "honest" soul and I haven't found many to compare. 

                                                                                           

   

Wednesday, May 28, 2025

one way or the other

  We live in a binary world. There is no denying it. I can only smile at those attempting to say otherwise. There is right and wrong, left and right, positive and negative. There is up and down. Even in the three dimensional world there are really only two choices if you think about it. You may be performing multiple actions simultaneously but each action is a binary function. And as far as neutrality goes, neutrality is just indecision, eventually a choice will be made, or you will die having remained indecisive. You know we all hear that Switzerland is famously neutral but that is a relatively new thing for them. It actually began in 1815 in a declaration at the conference of Vienna. In 2022 Switzerland imposed economic sanctions on Russia, not such a neutral stance. They felt a choice was necessary and broke that neutrality. It was a binary action, the implementation of a sanction. All neutrality is simply potential.
  That is best explained by an electrical circuit. The energy from a battery is potential energy. It remains neutral until a circuit is completed, a decision made. It's the same with all energy regardless of the source. Energy, as a stand alone thing is just potential. A decision has to be made to utilize that energy in a productive manner. It can also be used in a destructive manner if that is the choice. It's a binary decision. That's the reason for positive and negative terminals, it does require both in order to function, just like people. We have to decide on that, positivity or negativity. The choice will be made to satisfy our own wants or needs. We call the negative wire the neutral wire in a 110V circuit. It's purpose is to return current to ground completing the circuit. Remember that energy can not be created or destroyed only changed from one state to another. There are two states of energy, kinetic and potential. A binary thing once again. It's true regardless of the source of that energy, by whatever means it is produced.
  We exercise judgement and discretion in order to reach a binary decision. That's how it works. That's how a scale works as well, it's a balance. In the neutral state all things are even. But then something occurs, a choice is made, something shifts, and the balance is upset, a choice has been made. The scale tips in one direction! It only tips in one direction at a time, there is no third option. It's right or left, up or down, hot or cold, left or right. It is either in your favor, to your liking, or it is not. Perhaps your choice is to remain neutral, that doesn't change the binary state of things. 
  Only by the breaking of that neutrality will an action occur. A decision made. There is fact and there is fiction. Binary. Just who gets to decide which is which? We are told to trust the science. Okay, science tells us everything is binary. It's true there are aberrations, abnormalities and disfigurements galore, exceptions to the rule, the existence of the unexpected. It's also true they are all a departure from a binary state. They are either normal or abnormal. Normal is established by nature, not by man. And yes there are aberrations in nature, in the natural world as well. 
  Man adapts to nature, nature does not adapt to man. It's a binary thing. Should you choose to embrace the abnormal, that in itself is a binary choice. It doesn't change anything, abnormal remains abnormal. If your argument hinges on changing the scientific norm, that is an admission that whatever it is that you're trying to change is abnormal. If it weren't, you wouldn't be trying to change it. What you really want is neutrality. It's not going to happen, at least not for long it won't. History shows us that, even Switzerland couldn't do that. Do not confuse science with emotions, with feelings. That is another subject altogether. Human nature begins to deviate from nature in early childhood, influenced by the world around us. That is another field of study. It's the study of why we make our choices. And we always choose one way or the other. You just made a choice.  ( Did you agree or disagree) You chose one way or the other. 

                                                                                      

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Smarter than you

  Went to a church that had no altar. In it's place was a stage with two microphones on stands. High stools were placed by those microphones, I suppose for the comfortable seating of the preacher, pastor or minister. I wasn't there for a church service but rather a fundraiser so perhaps the altar gets rolled out for that. I don't know and I didn't ask. We are all entitled to interact with our god in our own way. There is no right or wrong way, I want that to be clear in this writing. I'm just sharing my personal view of things, not issuing a judgement. That is getting to be a difficult thing to do these days. This forum is one of the few ways I can do that without hearing a lot of feedback, pushback or condemnation. That is only because I can choose whether to read the comments or not. It's not very difficult as the comments are few and far between, probably a good thing in the big picture.
  It did make me think once again about going to church, and what the intent of that action is supposed to be. I have written about all of this before, a few times in fact. One blog sticks in my mind in particular as the title explains my thought. Supplicant or celebrant? That is the gist of what I'm thinking about when it comes to attending church services. Do you go to ask for forgiveness, to confess your shortcomings before your god or do you go to celebrate that god? The central question for me being, does god require praise, or does god require supplication? Which action ensures the reward offered by acknowledging that god? Isn't that the reason for worship, to receive the reward. That, in and of itself causes me discomfort, as it seems a bit selfish.
  Now an altar is a place where you make offerings to your god. An altar is also the table of God in the Christian tradition. Way back an altar was the place where a sacrifice was made, that sacrifice being the life of an animal. What other sacrifices were laid upon an altar? In some traditions, human lives were those offerings. In my upbringing I prayed at the altar. When I really wanted that prayer to be heard, to express deep sincerity, I would kneel before the altar. It was also the place to receive communion. Sitting in the pews, kneeling there, wasn't quite as sanctimonious. The altar was as symbolic as the cross. That's why I was struck by the absence of one, in a church. But, it is called the worship center in that particular facility and so perhaps that makes a difference.
  Risk and reward is another theme I often mention or discuss. I do believe we all operate under that awareness. We tend to think the larger the risk, the larger the gain should we be successful. I'm not so certain that is true all of the time as reward is dependent upon your wants. How much do you want something? Do you really want eternal life? That is the reward offered for obedience to your God. Well, in the Christian tradition it is anyway, the Norse believed they would gain entrance to Valhalla, quite a different scenario than our vision of heaven. The older we get, the higher the risk of death and so we start to contemplate these things a bit more seriously. Remember when you were young and thought you would live forever? I'm not certain the children of today have quite that level of confidence given all the warnings issued today. Prevention is at the top of the list! Prevention supersedes all else, safety first.  It's enough to make anyone paranoid!
  I wonder if todays services of praise and worship, designed to be far more entertaining, hence the stage, serve the purpose of reenforcing the reward. You get to enjoy a bit of the reward offered; today. A place were everyone is singing, dancing, and sharing brotherhood and fellowship. The band is playing and all hands are raised in jubilation, a distraction from the realities of everyday life here on the planet. The emphasis has shifted to praise, to the belief that you have gained entry to heaven, it's assured, you're a shoe in. The reward is yours! A bit different from the days when I attended services where the emphasis was on sin and if you were worthy to receive that reward. We even had a book that your name needs to appear in. 
 I went to an Episcopal church so it wasn't hellfire and brimstone but you were reminded of your shortcomings! Well I remember the staring eyes of the Reverend, as he spoke of such things, those eyes seemed to be staring directly at me. It was an appeal to conscience, not a promise of reward. That's the difference I see in those services. A difference in intent, although the goal was the same. 
  I don't believe it makes a bit of difference to god. What is important here is the obedience to conscience. We all have that little voice inside us, telling us right from wrong. We all know when we should listen to that voice, and we all choose to ignore it when the situation offers a reward greater than the risk. We are influenced by the society in which we live, there is no denying or escaping that. The norm is established by the majority. If everyone is doing it. Remember saying that as a child? But everyone was doing it as an excuse for your choice. I believe if you stay true to your conscience you will do just fine. 
  I do believe life continues far beyond this mortal plane. That energy we call the spirit can never be destroyed, only transformed from one state to another. Even science agrees with that. I'd suggest that science discovered that long after the first humans thought about that. We have always known. A appeal to the gods, is an appeal to your conscience. Sometimes you can get your gods to agree with you, sometimes they do not. That will not change by dismissing the gods. Your conscience remains. Ignoring your conscience is seldom a good idea, that little voice in your head, it's smarter than you are. When you learn that, it's a revelation. 

                                                                                   

   

Monday, May 26, 2025

Meaning

  It being memorial day my thoughts just naturally turn to the solemn occasion we are told to celebrate. It is becoming a bit more disturbing every year, I suppose as I approach my final Monday. You know, it wasn't always on a Monday, the date actually chosen was May 30th. It was chosen because there were no battles fought on that date during the civil war. And yes, it was called decoration day. A day to decorate the graves of the fallen, not a day to receive decorations for valor or any military service. It also didn't have anything to do with the start of summer. It is simply that the end of May brings warmer weather and many schools take a break. I guess global warming reenforced this perception of the unofficial beginning of summer. 
  For me Memorial day was always about a grand parade and poppies. I don't recall it being about the start of summer. My father was a veteran of WW2 but didn't belong to any veterans organizations and so wasn't involved in the parade. I knew many of those men that did however, teachers, Uncles, and family friends. I remember seeing them in their uniforms marching in formation the flag held high. I listened to the cadence being called and watched the feet of those men moving in unison. It was a military parade, as best as could be managed in small town America. There were others involved, the fire trucks, the high school marching band and even kids on their decorated bicycles, bringing up the rear. 
  How well I remember my mom giving that man a dollar for a poppy. A dollar was a sizable amount for that small cloth poppy back in the 1960's. It was explained that the money went to support those veterans that had made it home, injured and needing some help. A dollar was a very small price indeed when you think about it is what I was told. Mom would pin that poppy to her blouse and wear it all day. Afterward it usually wound up hanging for the rear view mirror in the car. Sometime over the course of the year it would disappear. Today I don't see many poppies being sold, many being displayed at all. I'm assuming it is simply because we have no veterans group around Greensboro and no parade. I think I did see one veterans selling them outside the Walmart one year. 
  I was read the poem In Flanders Field and told the significance of that. My parents had the old newspapers that listed those lost in the war, the war being WW2 at that time. Occasionally those names would be mentioned and it was generally a sad occasion when they were. No one was celebrating that. It was decoration day until 1967 when the name was changed to Memorial day. It was an expansion of the meaning of that day. Originally decoration day was established to honor those Union soldiers that were killed in combat. Over time and as healing took place it was expanded to include the confederate soldiers and WW1 soldiers and airmen. By 1967 it was recognized as a memorial to all those lost in all wars. In 1971 it was included in the Uniform Holiday Act, moving it to the final Monday in May to facilitate a three day weekend. 

                                                            In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
    That mark our place; and in the sky
    The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
    The torch; be yours to hold it high.
    If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
        In Flanders fields.  

                         Lest we forget. 

                                                                                   

Sunday, May 25, 2025

Enough

  As memorial day approaches the advertising intensifies. There is much to be gained, given at a discount, as a tribute to our fallen heroes. Huge discounts on the all -American Jeep, discounts on one-day bathroom install and discounts on all your barbecuing needs. Everything you need to celebrate and honor. And for me I find it all disturbing. It just seems to lack dignity and honor. We are to commemorate the fallen, to remember and honor them. We say they made a sacrifice but that isn't my view. A sacrifice is freely given, their lives were taken from them. Yes, they were willing to fight, to accept that eventuality, but that doesn't mean they offered their lives freely with some expectation of return. And that is what sacrifice is all about, an exchange. A quid pro quo. 
  As a veteran I am aware of all the discounts and gifts being offered. It is something I struggle with all the time. I just don't feel right asking for those discounts or free stuff being offered. I appreciate the intent, the willingness to express your gratitude for my service and all that, but still, it makes me feel uneasy. I've been to events where they ask for all veterans to stand up. I have only done so by the urging of my family members, by their insistence that I do so. I would not otherwise do so. A local restaurant offers free donuts and a free breakfast to all veterans, just tell them you are one. I won't do that. I do not feel entitled to anything like that, I was compensated for my time in the service. I don't want anything extra. 
  It's a conflict because I will accept a discount at Lowes or the Home Depot. I justify that in my mind by saying, they are still making a profit, I'm not getting something for free. Getting a veterans discount isn't taking advantage or asking for a handout. Those are the things I say to myself but I remain uneasy about that logic. I do not belong to any veterans organization. I seldom wear anything that would indicate my past service. It's only in the last few years that I have taken to displaying some of my memorabilia from my time in the service. For me it was just a job I was doing, something that needed to be done, and I was willing to do that. I received compensation for that and continue to receive retirement benefits. That is what they are, benefits. Benefits are an advantage or profit gained. True, I earned those benefits, that is what makes me entitled to them, but they remain as a benefit. I have not earned anything additional and for that reason I struggle with this "free" stuff. I'm not entitled. 
  I think maybe all of that stems from my childhood. My father was a veteran of WW2 and so were the majority of the men I knew. Those men rarely spoke of the war, of their time in the service. The only real time I heard much about that was on Memorial day or veterans day. Even then I heard very little, as they may mention those who were lost. Never did I hear anyone demanding, expecting, or asking for any special consideration for their service. 
  What those veterans may have shared in those smoke filled veterans clubs I can't say. I recall going to the VFW club when I had first graduated from boot camp and was home on leave. It was smoke filled, rather dark, and men lined the bar holding their drinks. I was in uniform and ordered a beer. My money was refused. I attempted to buy a round of drinks and that was refused as well. My money wasn't any good in there. Nothing much was said, just words of encouragement. There were no big war stories told, no tales of bravado or any of that, mostly I felt a quiet acceptance. I did feel like I was a member of the club, although at that time I had no idea about any of that. Those that have served understand, and it isn't something that can be explained to those that haven't. 
  I feel a bit embarrassed when someone says, thank you for your service. I have no response to that, just a simple thank you. I feel a bit embarrassed accepting those discounts, but not enough to refuse them. I will not ask for them however, I will not produce my ID card to obtain a free breakfast or donut. I will say yes if I am asked, are you a veteran? Rarely will I offer that information without being asked. I served, I came home unscathed and continued on. Many did not. I benefitted from my service and continue to do so. It is enough. 

                                                                         


   I served from 1971-1993  It was a long time ago. In the last century. 

Saturday, May 24, 2025

A healing

  Memorial day. Hopefully we all know by now what we are commemorating, the lives lost in the defense of our nation. Yes, we hear about a celebration, that is supposed to somehow ease the pain. It follows along the same line of having a celebration of life instead of a funeral. The intent is to deflect from the reality of the situation. We are becoming quite conscious of anything negative happening in our lives and attempting to find ways to negate that. Personally, I think that is a mistake, I believe we should  face reality head on and learn to deal with that. I can only see more of the same insecurity, dependence and confusion that it is causing. That's the way I see that. Creating emotional cripples dependent on pills and therapists. 
  I retired from the U.S. Navy back in 1993 after serving a twenty year career. I was never engaged in any combat, although I was there for many conflicts. I was just another sailor in the fleet, like all others, doing what needed to be done. It is true that each of us have our own reasons, our own motivations for doing so. In my experience I would say patriotism is pretty low on the list. I did see some of my shipmates get injured and I heard later on that at least one died from those injuries. But those injuries weren't inflicted by a enemy, just an accident. We all served for a different reason. Some of those reasons I found hard to imagine, like wanting to just get away from home because the situation there was very bad. Some stayed long enough to finish that first enlistment, some didn't make it that far, and then there were the lifers, like me. Twenty years or possibly more. It was a lifetime, or so it seemed. Today, I just smile about that.
  The last time the United States officially declared war was for WW2. Even though we have lost thousands of lives in Korea, Viet Nam, and various other regions since WW2 none are officially a war. Isn't that amazing? They have been classified as a war for political and legal purposes but not declared so by congress. It's the same old story about names and the naming of actions. In the official record books we have never lost a war! The last one was WW2 and we were victorious! All those conflicts, police actions and sending advisors following that victory weren't wars. We couldn't lose. We did lose many thousands of lives however. 
  Being a retired Navy man I have noticed that when it comes to wars the foot soldiers, the army get all the attention. You don't hear a whole lot about the sailors. The United States has had a navy since the beginning.  On October 13, 1775 the Navy was created. Sailors have fought in every war since. During WW2 a total of 62,914 sailors perished. Of that number 30,931 were killed in action. The number of sailors that went to meet Davy Jones I don't have. It is those that my thoughts turn to on memorial day as I remember.
  Memorial day, originally called decoration day, was a day to remember and commemorate the lives lost in the "late rebellion." Yes, at the time it wasn't called a war, it was a rebellion. In fact, Congress never declared that a war at all. Another case of changing the terms to suit a narrative or satisfy a political agenda. The intent of the day was to place flowers or other appropriate decorations on the graves of the fallen. That's a little difficult to do for those lost a sea. For them there is no plot of land, no headstone, just an ocean. I did witness a burial at sea during my time, a retired Chief Petty Officer having his last wish fulfilled. I can tell you there is something different about seeing that coffin slip out from under the flag and going into the sea.
  My father served in WW2 on heavy bombers. He was a flight engineer and upper turret gunner on B-24's. This was one of the most hazardous jobs in the military at that time. We suffered the loss of 8000 heavy bombers during the war. 8000 planes shot down! An aircrewman was required to complete 25 missions in these bombers before being relieved of that duty and sent back home. 27,000 of those men didn't make it. The reality was only 25% would complete those requirements with 75% losing their lives. How many of those were never returned home for burial isn't really known. Those that parachuted and survived had their stories told. How many were lost forever and no one knowing where they lie? Were they even afforded a decent burial? For many, we just don't know. 
  Memorial day isn't a day to celebrate. That's the way I think of it. It's a day to remember and reflect. A day to face our own mortality. I imagine back in the early days, when it was decoration day, and we assembled in the cemeteries and graveyards across the nation, it was a far more somber occasion. We were surrounded by the reality of death. Speeches were made, stories shared, and the names were spoken. A day to come to grips with sorrow, loss and sadness. It wasn't a day to mask those feelings, those sentiments, but rather to embrace them as we would like to embrace our loved ones lost. A healing.      

                                                                               

Friday, May 23, 2025

No change

  Where you live. I wrote yesterday about growing up in a small town on Long Island. I mentioned the summer people that streamed out every weekend between Memorial day and Labor day. A necessary thing for the local economy, but in general despised by those locals. It was an interruption in our daily routines. Crowded streets and beaches. Downtown was awash with shoppers. Those tourists acted like tourists, you know, all excited and in a hurry all the time. They would rush in like locusts. Rude and feeling entitled they often caused problems. Now I don't have that problem here in Greensboro but where I live does come with a bit of that atmosphere as well.
  Greensboro is located on the eastern shore of Maryland. The Chesapeake Bay bridge provides a shortcut to the mainland, as the eastern shore is a peninsula. You can drive north and reach the mainland but it would take you a lot longer to reach areas like Annapolis and Dc. Annapolis is the capital of Maryland. Annapolis is also the home of the United States Naval Academy. Today they will be holding the graduation ceremony for those midshipman! The traffic will be terrific. And today I have to go to Annapolis to meet with my granddaughter. It's a long story but I have to go there today, of all days. And that is a part of where I live.
  The eastern shore of Maryland, simply called the shore by those that live here and those that come to visit, is quite active in the summer months. The reason is obvious enough, the beaches, fishing, camping, hiking and the farming. It is a warm weather playground. Things calm down considerably during the off season. Greensboro proper is mostly unaffected by any of that except when you have to drive somewhere to go shopping or whatever. Then the traffic can be an issue. Over the years there has been a bit of what is called  urban sprawl. Going by the name of development and economic opportunity the place is starting to fill up. The season is being extended just a bit, something I am familiar with. 
  There are a few pockets of the wealthy making their home here. Summer colonies is a fitting term, with their rustic charm and being close to nature and all that. But they haven't reached that level of popularity with celebrities and the like. You know those folks that proclaim they are just looking for an escape from all the glamour and glitz, all the attention they receive. The same ones demanding all of that wherever they go by the way. That's why they flock to those popular places, places like the Hamptons or Vail, Colorado. The places one wants to be "seen." Personally I avoid going to those areas whenever possible, I don't like crowds. 
  As I said I have to travel to Annapolis today, across the bridge as they say. The traffic will be crazy with the graduation ceremony scheduled for this afternoon. Yes, I'll be complaining about that. I used to complain about the city folks, the tourists, and the traffic when I lived on Long Island. I guess not much has really changed at all. I'm still complaining about that. The complaints always stem from others wanting to be in the area where I live, in my home. I wonder what it is like to live somewhere where none of that is a factor. Maybe in the middle of Nebraska there are places like that. I wonder what they complain about. 
  Well I expect we all complain about something. It's like the weather, we all feel it is somehow unique to our area. I complain that I have to drive seven miles to get to the Walmart. There is no shopping downtown in Greensboro. There is a pharmacy and a convenience store. That's about it. Yes we have a restaurant but I seldom eat out. And there is a pizza place as well but it isn't downtown. I complain about the traffic for the most part. We were forced to add a second stop light a few years back. I complain about the solar panel fields cropping up, covering acres of land. I see the loss of that farmland as a blight. It isn't adding jobs, it is causing some to leave altogether. Hard to farm without land. 
  Fortunately I live on the outskirts of the larger, more popular cities and towns here on the shore. We haven't been discovered. I hope we never are. But we will as people spread out to get away from the urban lifestyle and want to go country. Of course that country must include all the trappings of the city, just with a country charm. It's happening here, slowly and surely. Development they call that. Development and progress. They are building a new mini-mall just down the road in Denton, our county seat. Only about five miles from Greensboro, getting closer all the time. Yeah, we are getting touristy around here with digital signage and farm stands everywhere. Destroy the farms and attract the tourists seems to be the plan. I've seen all that before. Nothing much changes. 

                                                                             

Thursday, May 22, 2025

My view

 Growing up in a small town in the fifties and sixties definitely influenced my future. East Hampton, yes of "The Hamptons" is where I lived. During my time it was a bustling place between memorial day and Labor day. That was when all the termites came out to enjoy the scenic beauty the Hamptons had to offer. They had their fancy parties with their wealthy friends and a few celebrities. They would interact with the local "characters" for their wants and needs, much like the concierge service they were used to. The locals liked the money, in fact counted on that revenue to get them through the long winters, and catered to them. 
  Over the years that dynamic has changed a great deal. I left there in 1971, joining the Navy. I wasn't looking for a way out, a better life or any of that stuff, I just needed a job that would give me independence. In 1971, at least in my house, after graduating high school you either went to college, went to work, or joined the service. What you didn't do was live at home with your parents. No, the expectation was leaving the nest, even when a little shove was necessary. I don't know what the kids are expected to do these days, the economic situation is far worse than when I was there. Those termites are there year round but they don't really have the wealth of those old families, with that old money. 
 I often bemoan the loss of the place I grew up in. I think the majority of us would like to return home, home being the place of our youth. I realize it isn't the same for everyone and some had a rough childhood for a variety of reasons. My childhood I have no complaints about whatsoever. I had a place to live, family, friends and at times a few dollars in my pocket. The ocean and the bay were both available to me at any time I wanted to go. I lived on the edge of a wooded area that I could explore for hours. It was a very safe place to grow up, I could ride my bicycle everywhere and not have to be worried. Of course there were places were you weren't exactly welcomed with open arms but you simply didn't go there. Today I'm aware that that place doesn't exist anymore. The past resides in the past and isn't here today. Funny how that takes so long to admit to, to grasp. 
  After traveling around a bit for my navy career, living in various places, I settled down here in Greensboro, Md. Small, you bet, population about 2500 or so. Just a few stores on main street and when I first moved here one stoplight, now we have two. Downtown hasn't grown a bit, in fact you could say a bit smaller as we lost the hardware store. I can't say how it was back in the sixties and seventies, I wasn't here, but I'm thinking it was quite a bit different from the stories I have been told by the old timers. By all accounts Greensboro had a very active night life with a movie theater and dance hall. I was told of the riverboat coming up the Choptank river docking at the Greensboro Hotel and providing that entertainment. There is nothing like that here today. A small town still, but the residents, for the most part, are isolated from one another. A reflection of the world today, neighbors barely speak. 
  I still like living in Greensboro, like that small town atmosphere. I joke about moving as things are getting crowded, did I mention two stop lights. Just the other day I read where they are going to install a speed camera on the 600 block of main street. Makes sense, that is where the elementary school is located. I'm not certain of the current population but it has to be more than it was twenty some years ago. Like everywhere else in America we have many undocumented residents. This is an agricultural area. It is also a relatively inexpensive place to live and law enforcement is rather spotty. If you wanted to stay under the radar for any reason Greensboro is a good place for that. Crime is low, mostly property crimes and the other stuff of small town America. All in all, pretty safe place to be, although dull and boring to those wanting the night life. 
  I find it amusing when I see a trip to the Hamptons as a prize on the Price is Right. I never imagined such a thing as a kid growing up there. The prize package is often quoted as worth over ten thousand dollars for a five day stay. If I won that I would sell it immediately for as much as someone was willing to pay. The reason being, East Hampton, the town I knew no longer exists. It was sold many years ago. I have never been one to place much stock in the wealthy or famous people. I don't care to be associated with them. I would take no pride in proclaiming I live in the Hamptons. That doesn't do anything for me as far as status or entitlement of some kind.
  It's the same as living in Greensboro as far as I'm concerned. I will say this though, I don't see Greensboro as ever being a prize on the Price is Right. I'll go out on that limb and say it will never be a prize on the Price is Right. We did have a tourist once, but he was lost. The Greensboro Hotel is now a half-way house for drug addicts. The river needs dredging and no river boat comes our way. 

                                                                                        
 Ariel view of Greensboro Maryland photo credit to my daughter in law Maria, the adventurer in the hot air balloon. 

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Remember that

  The dates are piling up. I haven't set up my computer to give me reminders, an early warning system of impending dates marking significant events. This morning for instance I discovered it was an old friends birthday. I have to admit, the date escaped me. At the same time time I realized it was my grandsons' wedding anniversary, celebrating two years. I have a cousin that is also celebrating a birthday. There are far more days I should recall the older I am getting. That's what I mean about the dates piling up. It's a rather cruel twist of fate. The older you get the more you have to remember. God does have a sense of humor.
  Memorial day is fast approaching and I am reminded of that by all the sales advertised on television. Advertising informs us all of every holiday on the calendar. It would be hard to miss any of those. I'm old enough to remember when a holiday was celebrated on the actual day of the holiday. That changed back in 1971 to make things "uniform." Really we just wanted to ensure a three day weekend for the holiday. It didn't change the advertising much, just ensured we had a long weekend to buy something. So holidays I usually have no problem knowing about, it's those "personal" days that are becoming more difficult. 
  We all establish our personal days that may or may not coincide with others. What I mean there is, dates that have significance to us on a personal level. When we marry you had best remember that date! Guys are notorious for not remembering. Birthdays, other than our own and our children may prove to be challenging. The thing is, as we age we have to start adding in deaths as well. I find that a difficult date to remember as I don't like thinking of those folks as gone. I am surprised at times when I realize how long ago that happened. I wonder if I should be far more aware of that and if I'm not does that indicate something? Is remembering the date directly related to the personal importance of that date? That's the feeling I get when I forget and I feel bad about that. I should have remembered. 
  Generally speaking I think the ladies remember these dates far more often than the men do. Perhaps that is just a stereotype, an urban legend or something. I don't think women are more sentimental than men, I think they are expected to be however. Well, that's all a part of the marketing scheme in my eyes.  The men are supposed to be men, at least it was that way back in the twentieth century during my formative years. Society was different back then. We were expected to notice, and indeed recognize, the differences between men and women. There were expectations! Today I don't think that is as prevalent. Today all that just keeps me guessing. You can't be too certain of anything anymore. 
  When I was still in school and attending church on a regular basis I was aware of religious holidays. The big one I have no problem remembering; Christmas. Palm Sunday and Easter are more challenging as the date moves around on the calendar. Of course, advertising helps out there as well, with the Cadbury bunny making his appearance. I attended an Episcopal church and was aware of the changing liturgical seasons, advent, Christmas, epiphany, lent, easter and Pentecost. I don't recall there being any celebrations for that, just a mention from the Reverend that we would be celebrating Advent or whatever. Those dates I have no clue about today although I'm certain I could get reminders about that as well. 
  Dates are a challenge for me. It's funny because I also have a love of history and genealogy. Both of those require a good memory for dates. I can remember the event but the day it took place is often lost, or the decade for that matter. If I'm truthful sometimes the century! I have to look it up to be certain. That's true even with my family members birthdays. I know the month, the exact day however is another thing. I know when I was born, the date and year anyway. I don't expect to remember when I die. I figure I won't want to be reminded either. I've been here for 26,538 days and counting. I can't remember every date! If you want me to remember, advertise. 

                                                                                 

 
 

Tuesday, May 20, 2025

Memories returned

  I'm a bit of a hoarder, a collector of artifacts from the past related to my friends and family. I have been fortunate to have inherited these items over the years through the thoughtfulness of others. It is no secret that I treasure those things. Another artifact was added yesterday, sent to me by my brother in law, although my sister has been gone for seven years now. He has remarried but remains a part of my family and will always be. We stay in touch and he is in the process of selling his Florida home, the home he shared with my sister. That little artifact was on the side of that house, a relic my sister had saved from her past. That was a past I shared with her, a memory of someone special.
  I'll try to briefly explain. I lived on a dirt road with just four other houses. One neighbor, a lady we called Aunt Francis, although she wasn't related to us in any way, became especially close to my sister. Aunt Francis never had any children of her own, a medical issue I was told later on in life, and so "adopted" my sister Millie. Aunt Francis, Rollings was her last name through marriage and I'm not certain of her maiden name, was quite a colorful character. She always wore a dress, those rolled stockings, and bloomers! Yes, whenever she bent over to weed the garden or pick something up she looked like those yard ornaments you see today, the one with a woman's' bloomers showing. We also saw them on the clothesline. 
  Her home was quite small, one bedroom, a kitchen and living room, that was it.  A bathroom had been added to the bedroom at some point, more like a closet. Well, I guess that is why they used to call them a water closet. Aunt Francis was the queen of frugality. Having grown up "poor" as she often told us she had learned how to "make do." She saved the bacon grease, refused to buy paper towels, told me how you can get at least three uses of a tea bag and how to forage for food. She picked various fruits and vegetables from the side of the road, old orchards and any place else she could find. And Aunt Francis would occasionally shoot grey squirrels in her yard with a bb gun. She dressed those squirrels out and fried them for dinner! Yes, she shared them with me as well, along with a glass of dandelion wine she had made. As I said, quite the character.
  When she passed away she left her home, car, and personal belongings to my sister. Aunt Francis had a sister but said, my sister has enough and doesn't need anything. It wasn't that she didn't want her sister to have anything rather it was a simple matter of logic to her. My sister needed those things and her sister didn't. Aunt Francis was very practical about everything. Now one of those things left to my sister was a cast aluminum squirrel. This little decoration was nailed to side of her house by the back door. I remember it being there as far back as 1965 for certain. How she came to have that I have no idea. I suspect it was a gift as Aunt Francis wasn't likely to buy anything so frivolous as that. 
  To shorten the tale a bit my sister did marry and eventually sold that home. She kept that squirrel as a memento of Aunt Francis, taking it with her wherever she went. Her husband was an Air Force man and they moved around. That little squirrel has been to Germany and back! It finally rested on her house in Florida, nailed to the house by the back door. Yesterday, that squirrel arrived at my door. I am thrilled to have it as it contains so many memories, so much sentiment attached to that. I immediately took it to my workshop and nailed it to the side of that building. It isn't a back door but it is close enough. The squirrel is back in his habitat. 
  I've decided to call that squirrel Francis. I will get a smile out of that every time I see it. It's a bit of a time machine, the closet thing I will ever see to one anyway. It sure takes me back. Lots of memories there, covering more than sixty years. That squirrel was at my 16th birthday party, a party given to me by my sister at her new home. That would have been 1969. None of that could have been imagined all those years ago. What a journey Francis has been on. 
                                     
                                                                                         

                                                                                       
                                                                               

                                                                                    

Monday, May 19, 2025

The need to know

  After writing yesterdays posting I thought about starting a new project. It wouldn't be an autobiography, nothing that ambitious, but rather the telling of secrets. My working title is, "after I'm gone." That would be because I wouldn't want any of that to be read, to be available to anyone, until after I am gone. I'm thinking of a sort of time capsule thing, only digital in nature. I wonder how many months, or years, would be the appropriate amount of time before they were released. I see it more as a Paul Harvey piece, the rest of the story. Its' purpose being to provide an explanation. Perhaps after reading it some would go, so that's why. Trying to make sense out of life isn't an easy task, even when it isn't your own. 
  I have started writing a book, a memoir or whatever you would call that, several times. The results have always been less than satisfactory. I once shared a small snippet of what I had written and it wasn't received well. I get it, it just isn't very entertaining. My intent in writing isn't to entertain, but to explain. Textbooks are rarely read for enjoyment. We read text to learn the lesson presented, or at the very least, the ability to repeat what was written. Many receive degrees for doing just that, even advanced degrees. They haven't learned a thing, just repeated the lesson. Whatever I write will not carry the weight of celebrity or scholarship. It's my feeling they are requirements for a book basically concerned with philosophy. I have come to understand that is what I'm really writing. Very weighty stuff from just a high school graduate from small town America. 
  My family not being wealthy or influential I have zero recognition. As it turns out that is what is required, brand recognition. It's the only way the product gets sold. Well, more properly it is the only way the products gets "bought." If I want you to buy what I'm selling, I have to provide you with entertainment of some type. Brand loyalty is little different from a cult. In this new digital age we may go viral. When that happens you gain "followers." A viral infection? A following? It sure resembles a cult to me. That is way too much responsibility for me to handle. I'm willing to try if I have a few million dollars to help me along. I believe I could dodge the pitfalls of extreme wealth and remain grounded. 
  Getting back to what I  was thinking about, sharing the back story after I'm gone, I'm certain that would be more entertaining. We do like to read about the failures, the mistakes, the silly things and situation others get themselves into. It makes us all feel just a little better about ourselves. Now that we have decided to remove judgement we have adopted the "me too" attitude. In that way you don't have to feel bad about any of those foolish mistakes you may have made, you can simply say, me too. Join the club as we used to say back in the day. 
  Today we brag about our failures and shortcomings, proclaiming ourselves as survivors and hero's. I'm thinking those are the things I would share, "after I'm gone" as I don't want to embarrass myself while I'm living. I certainly don't feel like they are anything to brag about, I've often gone to great lengths to not have others find out about that stuff. What was I thinking? I wasn't, and that is the problem. Philosophy involves reason and at times I certainly acted in an unreasonable fashion. 
  My real trepidation about writing all that and having it read by others is the possibility of it hurting others feelings. To be more specific, family or friends. The truth can hurt. It may also change the opinion others have formed about me. That's why I wonder how long it should be before all of that would be available. How many generations removed from yourself? My thought is it would have to been when there is no one left that knew you personally while you were alive. When I first began writing these posts one of my thoughts was to tell the whole story. We are the only one that can do that with 100% accuracy. It does require courage to do that. It's also true that fools rush in where wise men fear to tread. 
  I'm well aware that I am of little to no consequence in the big scheme of things. My name won't be found in any history of the world being told. I'll just be another name among billions of names. I'm just fine with that, it is what it is. I confess I do hope my descendants will remember and repeat my name. Maybe even have a photograph of me on their wall. They are the ones I hope will want to read what I have written. Entertainment provided to satisfy a curiosity. At what point can a curiosity be satisfied without judgement?  
  I'm thinking that point will never be fully realized. Consider what is happening today with many historical figures. They enjoyed great admiration and respect for many generations. Today, many of those people are now being exposed as bigots, slave owners, and just terrible people. Their statues are being torn down and replaced, in some cases, by criminals now viewed as hero's. History will judge. No one is above that judgement! Even our Gods have been, and continue to be judged. Judgment is the discernment of truth.  Moral truth is established by society, not by textbooks, scientific methods or degrees. 
  If I am to write that memoir I am obligated to tell the truth. It is a moral obligation. Religion , we are told, is the vehicle to a moral life. We need to follow and practice the tenets of the religion. In that way we will please our God and be granted the reward. It is not so important what that reward is, as it is in obtaining the reward itself. That's the goal. Obedience to a moral standard. How is that standard established? It is established on an individual basis. Yes, there are social pressures associated with all of that, indeed there are civil pressures as well, that is what laws are all about. The choice to adhere to the moral choice is an individual choice. 
  It is an internal struggle. Do I really have the strength, the moral standard to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Isn't that the standard? It is, still I'm concerned about others reading it and that causes me some self reflection. Does everyone need to know? We all certainly feel like we do, that can't be denied. How can we make a fair judgment without all the facts? The thing is, in this case, do I want to be judged fairly? Do I want to be judged at all? Well that depends doesn't it? Judgment is a bad thing when it goes against your wishes but celebrated when it goes your way. I have thought this; there are things best left between you and your God. That's true even when that God is simply your own conscience. 
  Conscience is the establishment of a moral standard. That is the reward of a moral life. It is only realized after our death. Can you live with your conscience, for an eternity? Something to think about isn't it. We don't get a participation trophy for just being here, that's my thought. 

                                                                                       


                                                                                       

                                                                                              

Sunday, May 18, 2025

Recorded?

  I often feel like these blogs of mine are nothing more than talking to myself. That's not a bad thing, I seldom get into an argument and have learned a few things over the years. I have found that I will talk about the same stuff and I'm pleased to see I haven't really changed all that much over those years. I still pretty much feel the same way about most things. There really is little new in the world, something I heard my parents say and only now do I really understand what they meant. People and their emotions and notions haven't changed, still self centered for the most part. I include myself in that assessment. Today they call that "mental health" and you are urged to get help with that, mostly through pharmaceuticals. A few pills and a therapist, you'll be good to go.
   According to the statistics I have posted 5,257 blogs over the last twelve years. I have received 646 comments. So, as you can see if you counted one comment per blog that would mean about 12% of the time. It's actually less as some blogs have multiple comments, the vast majority having none at all. But all that depends upon how you want to report it. Still these generally early morning discussions I have with myself have become somewhat more a force of habit than motivated by anything else happening in the world. There are many mornings when I contemplate not continuing at all. But I remind myself of my original intent in posting them, to leave a record of me. 
  I don't believe there is enough material for me to write an autobiography that would be of much interest to those that aren't related to me, or a close friend. Beyond that little circle my life has just been the same everyday story as most everyone else. It isn't a drama or any great story of success, of survival or empowerment. No it has just been me doing whatever I thought best at the time. I didn't always do what was best. I just moved on from that, sometimes learning from it, sometimes repeating that mistake multiple times. But, I'll be leaving my thoughts behind, and that is what I was thinking about. It matters to me. 
  I now view this as the modern day version of a journal or diary. Many people have kept those over the years, I know my sister did. She didn't share her journal with anyone however. She told me as she filled her journal, she would simply discard it afterwards. I think the earliest version of that would have to have been the family bibles. People used to record births and deaths in those bibles, marriages and other life changing events. For genealogists they are a treasure trove of information and taken as the final authority! If something is recorded in the family bible it will stand up in a court of law! My blog postings will not carry that weight. It's my feeling that they should however, as I am the authority on my opinions and views. It's what I said.
  The biggest difference in blogging and keeping a diary is in the information shared. I do not share my personal thoughts and views. Diaries are far more intimate. I have no desire to engage in that practice, I don't want to record my shortcomings and failures, something required of a diary. No my hope is to leave behind something that may prove useful to others. At the very least I hope to entertain, if only for a few moments at a time. I now have a great granddaughter. I hope one day she may read some of my postings. 
  I knew my own great grandfather and wish I had asked him a lot more questions than I did. I would love to read his opinions on things never discussed with him. Not personal things, that isn't what I mean, I just mean things in general. The things that were new to him, like a telephone or a television set. What did he think about cars? Just the everyday life sort of stuff. He was born in 1878 and had certainly seen a lot by the 1960's when I knew him. 
  I was born in the mid twentieth century, the 1900's and my great granddaughter will most likely experience much the same with me. Then perhaps when she reaches her forties she will wonder about the stuff that happened in the late twentieth century, stuff like the Vietnam war, 9/11 and social issues. Today we think back and read about those things we didn't experience, things like slavery, and wonder what did those living at that time really think. What were their views?  I wonder if these blogs of mine will still be on some server somewhere, accessible to the everyday person. We tend to believe things will last forever but that certainly isn't the truth. Or will this all be lost, like the great library of Alexandria, destroyed by some catastrophe. Will we be some "advanced" civilization lost to time. 

                                                                        
The file cabinets of the 21st century. Will they endure?