Getting My Ears Lowered…

An unusual expression, that meant getting a haircut. Instead of wondering what to write about. I’m taking my advice, and just writing.

Along with “all things in moderation.” I believe in “live and let live.” What’s between one’s ears is really what matters. In other words–attitude is everything.

When this is published, it will be the 25th. The commemoration of my 70th birthday.

“Did you know that thirty members of your graduating high school class are deceased?” My sister chimed in, recently.

“No, I didn’t. If you were trying to cheer me up. It’s not working.”

“Do you write about anything/everything that pops into your head?”

“Heavens no. Just about some of the things I find interesting.”

“Do you remember going to bed with bubble gum in your mouth? Then, mom cutting the gum globs from your hair with scissors?” I asked.

“Yes, so what? Cousin Margie, did the same thing.”  One of the reasons parents despised bubblegum.

We were warned not to swallow chewing gum. It would accumulate and clog our digestive systems. I don’t chew gum any longer.  I’ve made it through three-score and ten–swallowed gum and all.

Faceless, Nameless, Entity? Not If I Can Help It

Friends of a friend attended a birthday party recently. For that, I am glad. Happy Belated Birthday, “Shirley!” None of this had anything to do with you, or your celebration.

Facebook has been in a bit of trouble lately. If anything is to be blamed. I’m blaming FB.  Facebook posted a picture using face recognition technology.  I have no desire for my face to be meddled with by FB or anyone else.

I subscribe to both Facebook and Twitter.  Twitter didn’t meddle as much.  FB suggested friends to follow–as did Twitter.  Friend requests on FB were generally from strangers with foreign names.  They were easy to delete.

Back to “Shirley’s” backyard birthday party. Sitting at a picnic table, with hands folded across his chest, was a heavy-set white man. He appeared to be enjoying the festivities. I’d never seen or met this gentleman before.

The awkward part came, when FB assumed, this gentleman could have been me. Their facial recognition feature had a long way to go. Wouldn’t I have known, whether or not I attended this event, some 1200 miles from home? By the way, their band was great.

I’m sure “Steve”–the misidentified individual–was an upstanding person in his own right.  Weren’t most middle-aged white men named, Steve, Bob, or Chuck?  We’re both Caucasian, both of stocky proportions, about the same ages. both wore glasses, both liked backyard celebrations. But, we’re not the same person! And, no offense Sir, I think I’m younger and a bit more handsome.

A WEDNESDAY THOUGHT (Happy Birthday To You)

In an announced court ruling, Happy Birthday is now in the public domain.

Perhaps that will bring an end to the embarrassing, sappy, happy, crappy, hand clapping birthday chants at casual dining chain restaurants?

And if it doesn’t, I’m not having any more birthdays.

The senseless, “Happy, happy, happy, happy, birthday, birthday,” makes me want to spew my ice tea every time.






Dad at my tiny apartment

Today is Super Bowl Sunday, roman numeral, something or another.  I was thinking, that today, was also your birthday.  It’s a special birthday, too.  Almost everybody, thinks they’d like to live to be a hundred.  However, not many actually do.

Thirty-seven years later–I’m glad my older brother was such a shutterbug, and saved this picture of you.  You’re seated in my dinky, two-room bachelor pad, wearing typical bib overalls, reading a magazine.  I’m amazed there were enough chairs to seat everybody. This picture speaks of honesty, hard work, forthrightness–because, that’s the way you were.

You, mom, my brother, sister-in law, and nephew, sought shelter from a late-winter ice storm in 1978.  Your electricity had been out for quite some time.  The storm stayed to the north.  I was happy to have some company.  And, I may have cooked for everybody?  My memory fails me on that point.  But, that’s not important.

The tables have turned–in more ways than one.  Things have changed a bit, since you left.  We’ve all gotten older–have grandchildren of our own.  I’m, now about the same age, you were, when this picture was taken.  Time sure does fly.  I remember you and Mom saying that all the time; and not believing it.

“Stop tooting your own horn–tell everybody why this is such a special occasion.”  That’s what you would say; dad, you never were given to sloppy sentiment.  I now, know why it was so important to pay attention in school and church.  I wake up, meditate every morning, watch the sunrise–just like you always did.

I worry about things more than I let on.  It’s no longer all about me.  There’s great joy in watching children, grandchildren grow up.  And I know, there’s even greater joy, in watching them succeed and be happy.  True friends are increasingly hard to find. Some have already passed away.

Thought you’d like to know, the home place is in good hands.  Your only daughter, and son-in-law live there now.  They’re retired from teaching–moved back from Ohio.  The grounds are lovingly maintained–as are the house, and out buildings.  Mom, grandma, and grandpa would like it, too.

Several have said, how much, some of us favor you.  A companion picture of me, taken on this same occasion, looked a lot like you.  My sister, said, “My younger brother has the same walk.”  As much fun as it’s been to walk down memory lane–there have been differences.

My footsteps didn’t always follow yours.  We didn’t always see eye to eye–especially when I had to move back in with you and mom.  I think we were like two bulls locking horns.  As your, rebellious, sometimes stubborn, second son; I’m glad you were there for me–and Happy 100th Birthday!

“Those trapped in the present, can’t appreciate the past, and may fall victim to the  future”