Right here. Right now.
Becoming present to the moment.
Peace. Be still.
This morning I read my oldest daughter's post
from the western shores of the Dark Continent.
There since early July, she is miles away.
Oceans away.
Nearer than breathing. Closer than hands and feet.
She floats.
The lightness of her being.
We pray it is bearable.
Bless them, change me.
She walks amongst them.
Her smile holds up the sky.
Bless them, change me.
Ah Michaela Rae, Michaela Rae.
Michaela Rae hey of sunshine...
Peace. Be still.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
The Light of the World
Mostly open spaciousness, the Universe also contains great balls of fire, a.k.a. Stars, which are all spinning and dancing, sending us warmth and light. And love abides.A Black Hole, on the other hand, is also a star, but has stopped giving, has become so self-centered that its very own gravity allows no light to esc...ape. A cold darkness abides.
Smile. You are the light of the world. :)
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Oldtimerism
Boy as soon as I assume the mantle of oldtimerism, I think I have seen it all before, have nothing new to learn, and therefore start in with the whole contempt prior to investigation. I need help setting aside all my preconceived notions! Otherwise I will miss it all again and again.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Riding the Fence - Is you is or is you aint?
Riding the Fence
I remember a time, back in 2003, I was riding the fence pretty hard, honestly going back and forth on whether or not I really, really needed to stop drinking, for good and all, or whether, as I suspected, the problem was really "them" and their petty grievances and that if they were to change their reactionary and narrow-minded ways, life would be good - at last.
If you ever just walked up and asked me, do you have a drinking problem? I would be like "Of course not! Double-ya-tee-eff dude? WTF?"
One really smart guy Adam Z suggested Occam's Razor. Dude, he says, the simplest, most obvious answer is usually the truth. If you even think you have a problem, then 95% of the time, you do.
Being expert at this game, I could rationalize and minimize and justify. I was easily able to deflect these glancing blows. Dude, it aint that bad! Really!
Nowadays it is all crystal clear, but back five or six years ago it was murky and dark. I did not really want to stop; so I tended to ignore any facts that did not support this position.
What did I want? I really wanted to squeeze all the fun I could out of this run. I did not want to leave any good times on the table. I resented even the suggestion there might be a problem. Why was I so defensive? Hell - the answer to that question right there is generally proof positive, but hang with me for a second.
How can things be so crystal clear and still murky? Here is the deal: I did not EVER really have a drinking problem. For me drinking was a solution! Life gets itchy, I get bitchy, and pretty soon I am thinking when am I next going to be out of town? When is my next business trip, whereupon I can hole up in some godforsaken marriott or whathaveyou, turn on the TV with no sound, put on some music, and the internet and basically drink with no one watching. That would last only awhile and then I would be driven out and about.
Just even knowing I could access that liquid comfort, above the coffee maker, anytime I wanted, gave me a certain peace and ease and kept me from exploding and taking sides. (You know the sides like suicide, homicide, pesticide and all other sides.)
Mostly I was restless, irritable, discontent UNLESS I could again experience the sense of ease and comfort that comes at once, by taking a few drinks - drinks which I saw others take with impunity. Once I got started, I would have preferred to continue; however, did not so as to keep up domestic tranquility. Hence the need to travel!
I had tons of "living problems" but, again, if you walked up and asked me: I would be angry and offended. WTF? As soon as I started drinking in July 2001, after 20 years of not drinking, it was like a black veil dropped over my head. I could no longer see the truth about myself.
If you asked if I had any fears and resentments, I would have honestly said no, not really, can't think of any. I was convinced others were fairly messed up or too nosy or too rigid or too jealous, or what have you. But I had been having these kinds of issues for months and months prior to the infamous summer of 2001. People-problems! Problems with the wife, problems with the daughters, various sisters and other insane female coworkers, insane soccer moms. If you asked what is the common denominator I would have said "...That they are all female?"
But still that would tend to minimize and ignore the bigger picture. I was having trouble with everybody. To me, other guys were either competition or insignificant. There were only one or two straight across equals. Buds. I was having trouble keeping a job more than two years at a time. I was a prey to misery and depression. The soccer team I coached had much success and won tons of trophies, but now I had to let go. With all this in the mix, happiness was not even remotely available. Most of the time I was angry and demanding. Healthy people tend to pull away from that, which only feeds the anger and fear.
Looking back I know these facts: Driven driven by a hundred forms of fear, fear of not getting what I want, fear of losing what I had, driven by ego and anger, I began treating this lack of ease, this dis-ease, with an almost daily dose. Scratch the itch. Feed the beast. Feed the beast and the beast only gets stronger. Pretty soon it was one or two drinks every day. Later it was two or three every day. I heard myself say these things out loud, but I ignored the escalation and the insanity. I watched myself carefully place empty Heineken bottles in four separate corners of the trash can, so as to avoid the damning "clink" when the kids took the trash outside.
Was I ever snockered? Not really. Now and again, on road trips, or what have you, but mostly I had to carefully regulate these episodes, so as to protect that access and supply. I wanted and needed to always be able to get that relief. I know guys and gals that would stop for 3-4 weeks at a time, but that just kept them out there longer. I was not interested in the whole regulation experiment. One time the wife said: "Why don't you stop drinking for, say, a year and then see what happens?" I actually laughed out loud. Oh my God! I wondered to myself if she was maybe going a little insane. How could you even say something like that?
Looking back I also know these facts: On Sept 4, 2004 flying back from Europe, I had not intended to drink. I was two months angry (dry) and only vaguely interested in sobriety. United Airlines bumped me up to first class. I always knew my case was different and deserved special consideration. This piece of good luck just confirmed that fact.
As I leaned back in the easy chair, they asked what would you like to drink Mr Brown? I did not even think twice. I'll have a scotch. This fine service continued all the way across the Atlantic ocean and we had a gay old time, back by the kitchen, hanging out with the flight attendants, laughing, doing magic tricks and such, and when I leaned in for a refill on the wine, the kind lady said: "Um, Mr Brown, we are going to land in about an hour. Why don't we switch you to coffee?" And I thought to myself: well buddy you gone and done it again.
The next day I woke up. WTF? How could this have happened? First class? So what! You didn't even put up a good fight? Anyway I was done and I knew it. Surrendered. Quit fighting. I was go through the middle of Alcoholics Anonymous, no skimping, no cutting corners, no bargaining, no arguments, no running my own show. Get in line with the other ducks. Get a sponsor. Do the deal. Let the wire-brush cleansing of AA work do its thing on my anger, pride and ego. I went to meetings. Everyday. When they asked for newcomers? I said, yes, I am a newcomer. My name is Steve, and I am an alcoholic. I quit explaining to people what a big-deal I used to be, what happened, and why I was here now. I shut up and listened, served coffee, stacked chairs, went home.
Three weeks later I left the Sat 8AM meeting feeling angry (again) because they had used a guy's last name, broke his anonymity, basically it was not all that hard to piss me off is my point. Smoked a couple more Marlboro reds, trotted out to referee a U16 boys soccer match, and eighty minutes later, I suffered a sudden-cardiac-death. Apparently I took a knee and fell over. Dead at age forty-five. Some parents ran out onto the field. One soccer dad had to pry my clenched jaws open, so that two soccer moms gave me CPR for about six minutes - which is a really long time. Most guys die right there. Other guys suffer permanent brain damage. These two soccer moms were former nurses and saved my life. The truck got there and the EMT guys shocked me a bunch of times before my heart finally restarted.
They called my wife Colleen's cell phone. She was downtown with two of the kids, Kelsey and Jake, who were 16 and 14 years old at the time. They actually met the ambulance at the hospital and watched me get wheeled into the emergency room. From their perspective that must have been one heck of a scary moment. Anyway the medical report said I was "posturing" for hours, which is basically all clenched up in fetal position. Later I went into a coma. The doctors said to have the kids go ahead and say goodbye because it did not look good. That was Saturday September 26, 2004. I was in a coma all night.
Prayers went up and out into the universe. My brother took his drum out to Venice Beach and pounded a steady beat out across the ocean long into the night. A buddy walked off into the east coast woods and said God if there is a God, I ain't never asked but...
So prayers went up. Colleen stayed with me all night. Early Sunday morning, when Kelsey said "Dad if you can hear me squeeze my hand." I must have heard her and squeezed and she started crying. So here I am, five years later. My old sponsor used to say back in 1981: "Brown, the only thing you need to know about God is, there is a God, and you aint it."
Today I would just say Amen. Aho! If there is any reason for me to be here, it is to help others. If this story helps in any way, then Aho! If it does not help, then at least know it helped me to tell it, so thanks. And Aho!
I have not had a drink since Sept 4, 2004 and I am humbly grateful for the gift of having that obsession removed. Today, one day at a time, I have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. As long as I stay spiritually fit, and try to help others, this gift and gratitude and peace abides. Amen.
There are a few OBJECTIVE Q's you can ask yourself below. Occam's Razor. If the shoe fits...
I remember a time, back in 2003, I was riding the fence pretty hard, honestly going back and forth on whether or not I really, really needed to stop drinking, for good and all, or whether, as I suspected, the problem was really "them" and their petty grievances and that if they were to change their reactionary and narrow-minded ways, life would be good - at last.
If you ever just walked up and asked me, do you have a drinking problem? I would be like "Of course not! Double-ya-tee-eff dude? WTF?"
One really smart guy Adam Z suggested Occam's Razor. Dude, he says, the simplest, most obvious answer is usually the truth. If you even think you have a problem, then 95% of the time, you do.
Being expert at this game, I could rationalize and minimize and justify. I was easily able to deflect these glancing blows. Dude, it aint that bad! Really!
Nowadays it is all crystal clear, but back five or six years ago it was murky and dark. I did not really want to stop; so I tended to ignore any facts that did not support this position.
What did I want? I really wanted to squeeze all the fun I could out of this run. I did not want to leave any good times on the table. I resented even the suggestion there might be a problem. Why was I so defensive? Hell - the answer to that question right there is generally proof positive, but hang with me for a second.
How can things be so crystal clear and still murky? Here is the deal: I did not EVER really have a drinking problem. For me drinking was a solution! Life gets itchy, I get bitchy, and pretty soon I am thinking when am I next going to be out of town? When is my next business trip, whereupon I can hole up in some godforsaken marriott or whathaveyou, turn on the TV with no sound, put on some music, and the internet and basically drink with no one watching. That would last only awhile and then I would be driven out and about.
Just even knowing I could access that liquid comfort, above the coffee maker, anytime I wanted, gave me a certain peace and ease and kept me from exploding and taking sides. (You know the sides like suicide, homicide, pesticide and all other sides.)
Mostly I was restless, irritable, discontent UNLESS I could again experience the sense of ease and comfort that comes at once, by taking a few drinks - drinks which I saw others take with impunity. Once I got started, I would have preferred to continue; however, did not so as to keep up domestic tranquility. Hence the need to travel!
I had tons of "living problems" but, again, if you walked up and asked me: I would be angry and offended. WTF? As soon as I started drinking in July 2001, after 20 years of not drinking, it was like a black veil dropped over my head. I could no longer see the truth about myself.
If you asked if I had any fears and resentments, I would have honestly said no, not really, can't think of any. I was convinced others were fairly messed up or too nosy or too rigid or too jealous, or what have you. But I had been having these kinds of issues for months and months prior to the infamous summer of 2001. People-problems! Problems with the wife, problems with the daughters, various sisters and other insane female coworkers, insane soccer moms. If you asked what is the common denominator I would have said "...That they are all female?"
But still that would tend to minimize and ignore the bigger picture. I was having trouble with everybody. To me, other guys were either competition or insignificant. There were only one or two straight across equals. Buds. I was having trouble keeping a job more than two years at a time. I was a prey to misery and depression. The soccer team I coached had much success and won tons of trophies, but now I had to let go. With all this in the mix, happiness was not even remotely available. Most of the time I was angry and demanding. Healthy people tend to pull away from that, which only feeds the anger and fear.
Looking back I know these facts: Driven driven by a hundred forms of fear, fear of not getting what I want, fear of losing what I had, driven by ego and anger, I began treating this lack of ease, this dis-ease, with an almost daily dose. Scratch the itch. Feed the beast. Feed the beast and the beast only gets stronger. Pretty soon it was one or two drinks every day. Later it was two or three every day. I heard myself say these things out loud, but I ignored the escalation and the insanity. I watched myself carefully place empty Heineken bottles in four separate corners of the trash can, so as to avoid the damning "clink" when the kids took the trash outside.
Was I ever snockered? Not really. Now and again, on road trips, or what have you, but mostly I had to carefully regulate these episodes, so as to protect that access and supply. I wanted and needed to always be able to get that relief. I know guys and gals that would stop for 3-4 weeks at a time, but that just kept them out there longer. I was not interested in the whole regulation experiment. One time the wife said: "Why don't you stop drinking for, say, a year and then see what happens?" I actually laughed out loud. Oh my God! I wondered to myself if she was maybe going a little insane. How could you even say something like that?
Looking back I also know these facts: On Sept 4, 2004 flying back from Europe, I had not intended to drink. I was two months angry (dry) and only vaguely interested in sobriety. United Airlines bumped me up to first class. I always knew my case was different and deserved special consideration. This piece of good luck just confirmed that fact.
As I leaned back in the easy chair, they asked what would you like to drink Mr Brown? I did not even think twice. I'll have a scotch. This fine service continued all the way across the Atlantic ocean and we had a gay old time, back by the kitchen, hanging out with the flight attendants, laughing, doing magic tricks and such, and when I leaned in for a refill on the wine, the kind lady said: "Um, Mr Brown, we are going to land in about an hour. Why don't we switch you to coffee?" And I thought to myself: well buddy you gone and done it again.
The next day I woke up. WTF? How could this have happened? First class? So what! You didn't even put up a good fight? Anyway I was done and I knew it. Surrendered. Quit fighting. I was go through the middle of Alcoholics Anonymous, no skimping, no cutting corners, no bargaining, no arguments, no running my own show. Get in line with the other ducks. Get a sponsor. Do the deal. Let the wire-brush cleansing of AA work do its thing on my anger, pride and ego. I went to meetings. Everyday. When they asked for newcomers? I said, yes, I am a newcomer. My name is Steve, and I am an alcoholic. I quit explaining to people what a big-deal I used to be, what happened, and why I was here now. I shut up and listened, served coffee, stacked chairs, went home.
Three weeks later I left the Sat 8AM meeting feeling angry (again) because they had used a guy's last name, broke his anonymity, basically it was not all that hard to piss me off is my point. Smoked a couple more Marlboro reds, trotted out to referee a U16 boys soccer match, and eighty minutes later, I suffered a sudden-cardiac-death. Apparently I took a knee and fell over. Dead at age forty-five. Some parents ran out onto the field. One soccer dad had to pry my clenched jaws open, so that two soccer moms gave me CPR for about six minutes - which is a really long time. Most guys die right there. Other guys suffer permanent brain damage. These two soccer moms were former nurses and saved my life. The truck got there and the EMT guys shocked me a bunch of times before my heart finally restarted.
They called my wife Colleen's cell phone. She was downtown with two of the kids, Kelsey and Jake, who were 16 and 14 years old at the time. They actually met the ambulance at the hospital and watched me get wheeled into the emergency room. From their perspective that must have been one heck of a scary moment. Anyway the medical report said I was "posturing" for hours, which is basically all clenched up in fetal position. Later I went into a coma. The doctors said to have the kids go ahead and say goodbye because it did not look good. That was Saturday September 26, 2004. I was in a coma all night.
Prayers went up and out into the universe. My brother took his drum out to Venice Beach and pounded a steady beat out across the ocean long into the night. A buddy walked off into the east coast woods and said God if there is a God, I ain't never asked but...
So prayers went up. Colleen stayed with me all night. Early Sunday morning, when Kelsey said "Dad if you can hear me squeeze my hand." I must have heard her and squeezed and she started crying. So here I am, five years later. My old sponsor used to say back in 1981: "Brown, the only thing you need to know about God is, there is a God, and you aint it."
Today I would just say Amen. Aho! If there is any reason for me to be here, it is to help others. If this story helps in any way, then Aho! If it does not help, then at least know it helped me to tell it, so thanks. And Aho!
I have not had a drink since Sept 4, 2004 and I am humbly grateful for the gift of having that obsession removed. Today, one day at a time, I have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. As long as I stay spiritually fit, and try to help others, this gift and gratitude and peace abides. Amen.
There are a few OBJECTIVE Q's you can ask yourself below. Occam's Razor. If the shoe fits...
Are You An Alcoholic?
You might like to take the following test, developed by the World Health Organisation.
To calculate your score add the figures up in the left-hand column.
A score of eight or more suggests a drink problem.
1.How often do you drink alcohol?
(0) Never
(1) Monthly
(2) 2-4 times a month
(3) 2-3 times a week
(4) 4 or more times a week
2.How many units of alcohol do you drink on a typical day?
(0) 1 or 2
(1) 3 or 4
(2) 5 or 6
(3) 7, 8 or 9
(4) 10 or more
3.How often do you have six or more units of alcohol on one occasion?
(0) Never
(1) Less than monthly
(2) Monthly
(3) Weekly
(4) Daily or almost daily
4.How often during the last year have you found that you were not able to stop drinking once you had started?
(0) Never
(1) Less than monthly
(2) Monthly
(3) Weekly
(4) Daily or almost daily
5. How often during the last year have you failed to do what was expected of you because of drinking?
(0) Never
(1) Less than monthly
(2) Monthly
(3) Weekly
(4) Daily or almost daily
6. How often during the last year have you needed a drink first thing in the morning to get yourself going after a heavy drinking session?
(0) Never
(1) Less than monthly
(2) Monthly
(3) Weekly
(4) Daily or almost daily
7. How often during the last year have you felt guilt or remorse after drinking?
(0) Never
(1) Less than monthly
(2) Monthly
(3) Weekly
(4) Daily or almost daily
8. How often during the last year have you been unable to remember what happened the night before because you had been drinking?
(0) Never
(1) Less than monthly
(2) Monthly
(3) Weekly
(4) Daily or almost daily
9. Have you or someone else been injured as a result of your drinking?
(0) No
(2) Yes, but not in the last year
(3) Yes, during the last year
10. Has a relative, friend, doctor or health worker been concerned about your drinking or suggested you cut down?
(0) No
(2) Yes, but not in the last year
(3) Yes, during the last year
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Universal Healthcare \ Single Payer - Why Not?
You have to ask yourself: What bad thing happens if we do nothing? The answer to this is intuitive. Healthcare costs keep rising. We keep paying.
Why MUST healthcare costs keep rising? Because they can? Because they will? Because they always have? All of the above!
Simple example: Ask any healthcare finance executive in the USA: How much DOES it cost for me to get a quadruple bypass at your hospital?
He or she will say: Well, sir, that all depends on who pays your bill! Who is your healthcare payer?
Ummm...why do you ask?
Healthcare Executive: Well, sir, it is a bit convoluted, but here at XYZ Hospital, we get reimbursed say at one rate by Medicare, and another rate by Medicaid, and a couple different rates by Private insurance companies such as United Health Care and Aetna and Blue Cross Blue Shield... so we really can not tell you what YOUR price will be until you show us your insurance card.
Plus we here at XYZ Hospital do a lot of business with Medicare / Medicaid patients and this Payer generally pays the very lowest reimbursement rates. Therefore we may need to charge YOU a little more - in order to make up the difference. Please show me your insurance card. :)
Oh yeah, plus we have some folks that can't pay anything. So we may have to charge YOU a little more - in order to make up that difference too.
:) Keep smiling! Healthiness begins with you!
Why MUST healthcare costs keep rising? Because they can? Because they will? Because they always have? All of the above!
Simple example: Ask any healthcare finance executive in the USA: How much DOES it cost for me to get a quadruple bypass at your hospital?
He or she will say: Well, sir, that all depends on who pays your bill! Who is your healthcare payer?
Ummm...why do you ask?
Healthcare Executive: Well, sir, it is a bit convoluted, but here at XYZ Hospital, we get reimbursed say at one rate by Medicare, and another rate by Medicaid, and a couple different rates by Private insurance companies such as United Health Care and Aetna and Blue Cross Blue Shield... so we really can not tell you what YOUR price will be until you show us your insurance card.
Plus we here at XYZ Hospital do a lot of business with Medicare / Medicaid patients and this Payer generally pays the very lowest reimbursement rates. Therefore we may need to charge YOU a little more - in order to make up the difference. Please show me your insurance card. :)
Oh yeah, plus we have some folks that can't pay anything. So we may have to charge YOU a little more - in order to make up that difference too.
:) Keep smiling! Healthiness begins with you!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
It’s Your Time
Most people want to do a better job of managing their time. We all want to feel wise and productive, but few of us can honestly say our hours are spent both wisely and with purposeful intent. In fact most of us intuitively know we waste plenty of time each day; but lacking any data, lacking any facts or sense of urgency, we rationalize and minimize and drift along on the currents of habit.
Most of us need a breakthrough. We need to look squarely at the problem, break it down to specific data and facts, and supply ourselves with enough reason and emotion to actually change.
For example: What has a lack of time-management skills cost you so far in your life? Do you have a specific dollar-amount answer to that question? If you’re making $16 per hour, or $33,000 per year, then 15 minutes of your time is worth about $4. That makes each and every 15 minute interval in your life equal to double-tall latte or a gallon of gas!
So choosing to spend an hour in the coffee shop, every day, including weekends, for one full year is worth $5840 of your time. With this amount of cash you could spend a month in
The point is to become aware of the value of your time and how you spend it. Say you find yourself watching TV for half an hour. Seems innocent enough, right? But in reality, you’ve just now spent $8 of your valuable time. Maybe it was a really, really good show, the season finale of American Idol or something, and maybe you’re very happy with your purchase! But now you can begin to connect the expenditure of your time with trade-offs against your goals and dreams of a better career, better fitness and weight loss, and more long-term financial success, etc.
Assigning a monetary value to our time, in 15 minute intervals, makes us aware and possibly less willing to waste time watching (another) late-night Seinfeld rerun – especially when we could be sleeping or exercising or reading the next chapter ahead in our Macro-Economics class.
According to Eurodata TV Worldwide, the average ballpark-American spends over four (4) hours per day glued to the television. This may seem incredible, and perhaps the word “glued” is a bit strong, but still, can this be possible? Do we really spend one-fourth of our waking hours in front of a TV? Apparently it is true and, in fact, we’re not even in first place anymore.
Awareness begins the process of change. Pay very close attention to the time you spend. Keep a journal / log in 15 minute intervals for one full day. Repeat the exercise again in one week. Compare the actual results with your expectations. The answers are all within you!
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Teach Your Children Well...
On Teaching
SCB Jan 2008
Maybe the older we get, the more we start thinking about The End. Maybe we start seeing ourselves as finite, as something that is definitely, one of these days, going to end. And then maybe that fear drives a whole bunch of things – scaring us into making scrap books and writing stuff down – just, you know, for the sake of posterity. And does anybody even know what ‘posterity’ is for God’s sake?
I remember back in my mid twenties and I was thinking about the lifespan of stars. Not celebrities and movie stars but real stars. Taking this one astronomy class and we’re talking about how all stars go through this whole ‘aging’ pattern from birth to death and it suddenly occurred to me that, one of these days, the sun will die! Our sun! Our lucky old sun is just going to up and run out of gas - one of these days. It made me feel really sad, for a minute or two, because in your twenties, nothing sticks for very long. Then I did the math and figured out that, hey, in seven hundred million fifty thousand years from now - I probably won’t even be here.
So anyway my mom is in her 70's and has a tendency to always be trying to help and teach us kids of hers - even though we are quite grown up. Like one day, apropos of the nothing, she says to me:
Now Steve you travel a lot more than I do, and I am sure you already know this, but I will tell you anyway, you should never throw those electronic hotel key cards in the trash because people will dig around and fish them out and sell them to people who know how to get your personal information, credit card numbers and your social security number and such off these key cards.
So okay Ma I will definitely try to remember that next time…
Deep down I know she’s thinking: “Hey, maybe I can help out and this piece of information really should be passed along and not stop with me…” So really she’s just trying to pass some things along and make the world a safer and easier place to live. I guess maybe she just wants to be remembered. Is that such a bad thing? Seeing things at this level, I can resolve not to let her “fear of being forgotten” drive me further away from her.
Recently the garage door opener was shaking and rumbling up and down, getting louder and louder, until finally I squirted some WD40 along the chain. Now it works like a champ! Smooth and quiet. I thought to myself “Man I forgot how well that WD40 works on stuff. Every time I remember to use WD40 on the garage door opener, it works! Then I thought: maybe I should tell someone? I mean what if I was to die tomorrow and my son and my daughters don’t even know about this?
I laughed at myself for the absurdity, even as I climbed the stairs to my son’s room, peeked in, and said Hey Jake whats up and hey let me show you something down in the garage okay... its all about the wonders of WD40 and garage door openers. I could see his face. He was like: Dang my poor old dad is so completely random. I wonder if he’s got old-timers?
SCB Jan 2008
Maybe the older we get, the more we start thinking about The End. Maybe we start seeing ourselves as finite, as something that is definitely, one of these days, going to end. And then maybe that fear drives a whole bunch of things – scaring us into making scrap books and writing stuff down – just, you know, for the sake of posterity. And does anybody even know what ‘posterity’ is for God’s sake?
I remember back in my mid twenties and I was thinking about the lifespan of stars. Not celebrities and movie stars but real stars. Taking this one astronomy class and we’re talking about how all stars go through this whole ‘aging’ pattern from birth to death and it suddenly occurred to me that, one of these days, the sun will die! Our sun! Our lucky old sun is just going to up and run out of gas - one of these days. It made me feel really sad, for a minute or two, because in your twenties, nothing sticks for very long. Then I did the math and figured out that, hey, in seven hundred million fifty thousand years from now - I probably won’t even be here.
So anyway my mom is in her 70's and has a tendency to always be trying to help and teach us kids of hers - even though we are quite grown up. Like one day, apropos of the nothing, she says to me:
Now Steve you travel a lot more than I do, and I am sure you already know this, but I will tell you anyway, you should never throw those electronic hotel key cards in the trash because people will dig around and fish them out and sell them to people who know how to get your personal information, credit card numbers and your social security number and such off these key cards.
So okay Ma I will definitely try to remember that next time…
Deep down I know she’s thinking: “Hey, maybe I can help out and this piece of information really should be passed along and not stop with me…” So really she’s just trying to pass some things along and make the world a safer and easier place to live. I guess maybe she just wants to be remembered. Is that such a bad thing? Seeing things at this level, I can resolve not to let her “fear of being forgotten” drive me further away from her.
Recently the garage door opener was shaking and rumbling up and down, getting louder and louder, until finally I squirted some WD40 along the chain. Now it works like a champ! Smooth and quiet. I thought to myself “Man I forgot how well that WD40 works on stuff. Every time I remember to use WD40 on the garage door opener, it works! Then I thought: maybe I should tell someone? I mean what if I was to die tomorrow and my son and my daughters don’t even know about this?
I laughed at myself for the absurdity, even as I climbed the stairs to my son’s room, peeked in, and said Hey Jake whats up and hey let me show you something down in the garage okay... its all about the wonders of WD40 and garage door openers. I could see his face. He was like: Dang my poor old dad is so completely random. I wonder if he’s got old-timers?
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