Trobuled times....

i've often said, growing up, we barely had a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.  not having much in  the way of material things in my formative years likely influenced my outlook on life. the election cycles since the reagan and bush eras seem to have become exponentially contentious. the events of last week were hard to watch. i was appalled that citizens of this great country would be so crass as to despoil the very seat of freedom in the name of usurping the results of the election. in my eyes the president was complicit in the events of that day.

i most often vote for the candidate on the republican ticket. it's not that i agree with everything the gop stands for, i'm more pro-choice than anti-abortion for instance.  it seems to me the gop has a more conservative fiscal approach .  for sure i don't identify with the something for nothing largesse of the democrats. had there been such a thing as a star program in my younger years, my family most surely would have qualified but certainly not because my folks were sitting on their butts with their hands out saying, 'take care of me'. the life of a sharecropper is hard. that's why every year there was a garden planted and hours spent tending it. picking and preserving the fruits of that labor against the coming winter months.

everything i have i earned. through a combination of hard work and fortunate happenstance; the wife and i are in a much better place than my parents ever found themselves.  

i would prefer to be judged on my character more than for any political affiliation. in these divisive times  both sides are wont to throw slings and arrows at the other.  society's collective state of mind is one of high anxiety. i wish i could sit both sides in the corner and tell them - "when you can play nice, you can come out, but not before." 

for the last four years the democrats have been in continuous attack mode.  from what i can see the next four years is likely to see the gop's turn -- and that's unfortunate. 

come on people- we're better than this. 

aio

are we spoiled, or what?

atmos changed out the gas meter in the alley yesterday.  abel installed a new meter that will be remotely read from who knows where. technology reared its' evil head and one more job description goes the way of the dinosaur.   in the process he discovered what i had suspected for a while, okay years,  that there's a gas leak in the supply pipe going in to the house.   when that happens the gas company puts a lock on the meter which will only be removed once the leak has been repaired.

i called to 1-800-plumber right away.  they promised someone would be out between 1 and 3. As good as their word, mykal and his compadre arrived at shortly after 1. in short order they had confirmed that indeed  the 40+ year old supply pipe had oxidized to the point it was leaking. After only two trips back to the shop for parts, the repair was complete.  of course, by that time it was late and no way would the city be able to come by to inspect their work and of course atmos could not turn the gas back on until the city did its thing.

that brings me to the point of this little rant. that is-- how extremely comfortable the life most of us here in the good old US of A are privileged to enjoy.

i've remarked before in this space about growing up on a dry land cotton farm in the 50's and 60's. we survived without benefit of central air and heating, without hot water at hand, without indoor plumbing. the only heat source came from the butane tank out in the yard.  in winter, my dad insisted that the space heater in the middle of the room had to be turned off.  there was a risk of being gassed if the flame went out i suppose but that little three roomed hovel we called home was far from airtight. if i'd have had a vote it would have been. "lets risk it".  without insulation in the walls or the attic, the temp in the room come morning was equal to that just beyond the walls. the same could be said for summer, but i digress.  every winter morning, i was awakened by my dad's yell, "hey, joe-- get up and light the fire".

last night the temp outside got down into the twenties. i had a fire in the fireplace, the electric oven on low with the door ajar and every light in the house on for the little heat they put out.  the temp in the house with the help of our new triple pane windows, the insulation in the walls behind the brick veneer and in the attic was a mild 65 degrees.  a little chill but nothing like the outside.

luckily the city got here to do their inspection first thing this morning. the repair passed and soon after atmos came back to turn the gas back on.

do i want to go back to the good old days? no thanks. but as they say, 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'  i don't know about that.  what i do know is, i'm blessed.

aio

my daddy...

today marks what would have been my dad's 101st birthday.  he'll have been gone 36 years in the fall.  on occasion through the years I've paused to think on more than a few what ifs and if onlys.

What if the cancer hadn't taken him at age 65.  would he have continued to have the run of the T-bar ranch? would my kids have enjoyed hunting whatever was in season with him or fishing for perch and crappie in the stock tanks? if only, they might have a totally different perspective on life.

if only he'd lived long enough to see his still young grandchildren grow into young adulthood with life events yet to be revealed. if only he could have lived into a ripe old age and been able to witness all the milestone events that have come along since he passed.

if only, i'd be able to tell him, "happy birthday, daddy", one more time.

What if i just say it anyway. i miss you, dad. happy birthday.



 

My best intentions...

recently i learned a new member of the fam has written a book.  while it is still in the first draft stage, i cannot express how much that impresses me.  back in the day i read a lot of western themed novels by max brand and the lot.  i think  i've read every one of louis lamour's tales featuring jim chee and joe leaphorn as the central characters. i loved reading dana stabenow's series featuring kate shugak.  her descriptions of alaska and its frozen countryside chill me to the bone. her words paint the beauty of Alaska's native peoples and their history.

i got it in my head. after reading so many of these well crafted tales that i would try my hand at penning a story of my own. much to my chagrin, i'm here to tell you I barely got past the opening line.  a fully formed first paragraph never happened. no next great novel sprung from this feeble mind.

that brings me back to how much i admire j.m. and all those authors who've afforded me hours of escape over the years. you are my heroes and i'm more than a little envious.

A Farewell to Ellwood...

I'll never forget the day you found me.  You were sitting at the base of an old elm tree mewling at the top of your lung, "hey mister, look down here, I need some help".  You were dressed in your best mud coat, too grimy to tell much more than you were a kitten.  I picked you up and took you home.

It was never the intent to keep you.  Lucky and Lucy were already members of the family, surely someone else would love to have a cute little marmalade kitten.  But that's not the way it went, now is it?  The first mistake I made was picking you up in the first place, the second was naming you-- Ellwood, after the park you found me in.

It wasn't long until you'd wormed your way into our hearts just as Lucky and Lucy had done.  the two of them were equal opportunity lap hogs and not at all welcoming.  What had been two were now three.  Soon it became quite evident that you were to be a mama's boy.

That was years ago, 10 or 12, in some sense a long time but miles and miles of purrs and plaintive cries to go "out" have brought us to this day.  It's been some months since Lucy left us and an even shorter time since your surgery for the tumor in your mouth.

The day we dreaded, the day we knew was coming came today.  Right or not we opted not to do chemo.  Watching your decline has been hard. It's been tough to witness your struggle. Obviously you felt like s*** but through it all you soldiered on, demanding to be let outside to lay in the sun, monopolizing your mom's lap for hours on end, keeping on, but at a snails pace.

I've resisted the idea of  "putting you to sleep". I wasn't ready. Selfishly, I wanted just one more day with you in our lives. Last night when I saw you fall off the couch I knew the time was near. This morning when I saw you lose your balance and fall off the kitchen table, then struggle bravely to right yourself, I knew the day was today.  You've suffered enough, buddy.

Holding you in our lap in the vet clinic one last time, stroking your emaciated frame, feeling you push head into my touch, hearing you purr, in pleasure or pain- who knows-- that awful moment has arrived.  We had time for a last goodbye but truth be told we've been saying goodbye for weeks.  Still, it's a sad day for us. Your memory will be with us always.  We're gonna miss your Mr. Ellwood! Be at peace.  

long time no post...

we made a flying trip down O'Donnell way this past weekend.  my sister and cousin made the trip up from down south to check on our aunt lu,  the way i figure it, any time my sis is that close I should make the effort to meet her.  in truth, i've  been needing to get down there to check on lu for a while but needing to and going are 153 miles apart.

the deal is, we worry about our aunt who lives alone in a town whose population was 831 at the last census. that number dropped by 6 or 8 in the last two months. no grocery store, one café, one service station and an allsup's, a beauty shop, a few cotton gins (in season), the school store open for lunch and??-- you get the idea.  there's not much going on in little o-town.

her closest relative, another niece,  lives almost an hour away.  to her credit, she does check on lu often, at least by phone, but face to face response to a crisis is gonna take time. we've provided a life alert but, personally, I have my doubts as to whether she would actually push the button if the need arose.  she locked herself out of the house this past summer for four hours in 90+ degree heat.  did she push the button to at least ask if it was something they could help with?  that would be a-- NO!!

we've been after her for years to make a move somewhere--  anywhere.  a number of options have been met with the same response. "i'm not ready".   i get how hard it is to contemplate giving up ones home of umpteen years, of surrendering ones independence.  but is she really independent?  not so much, having to depend on friends to take her to the grocery store, etc.  stubborn, does not even begin to describe her.

i truly believe lu's current situation is a disaster waiting to happen. but what can we, her nieces and nephews, do?  when it was my mom in a similar situation, i simply gave her no choice.  we made a move.  she didn't like it at first but it was the right thing for her well being and her last years were happy.

i don't see an ultimatum as an option with lu.    surely she knows we love her but as it is telling her she has to do anything is not gonna happen.  thinking of her in her current situation is more than worrisome.  what can we do short of calling adult protective services--  which, i'm a bit ashamed to say, is a thought that has crossed my mind.

waiting for her to make up her mind or for the phone call to tell me it's too late is torture.

In honor of Eddie Melin...

For a time our daughter worked in the ASO offices. She, as were most of the folks who've been associated with the symphony over the years or who knew Eddie Melin through some other connection, was especially fond of him.  He would often come into the office after one of his tennis sessions and continued even after he was forced to give up the game he loved.  K would greet him, "Eddie, baby!" and he in return would greet her, "K****, baby!"

K was deeply saddened when she learned that Eddie has passed at last at the ripe old age of 102. Seeing as how there was no way she could come from NOLA for his memorial she asked that we attend the service in her stead.  Which we did. The Rev. Dr. Murray Gossett, Paul Matney,
Dr. Dale Roller  and others did Eddie proud, summing up an outstanding life in under and hour. Nice, but...

Tonight, was the last concert of the symphony season.  After intermission Maestro Bairos spoke eloquently of what Eddie meant to him personally, to the ASO and the arts community and to the community as a whole.  He referred to Eddie as a common man who lead an extraordinary life.  In 2015-16 the ASO will honor Eddie throughout its 91st season.

But tonight the symphony honored Eddie with Aaron Copland's "Fanfare for a Common Man".  The link below is to the New York Philharmonic's rendition. It does not come close to what I heard  tonight from Eddie's beloved ASO, in the hall he was so proud of, a fitting tribute from our maestro and players who poured every bit of the love, honor and respect they had for Eddie into every note.  I had tears streaming down my face as I listened, as I do now as I write this .  My guess is Eddie did too. As Laura Street so aptly noted.  "He is here! He's in the sound booth, sitting on a stair or in the seat next to you.  He will always be here."

aio
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLMVB0B1_Ts