I'm full

I'm full and it isn't because I ate to much on Thanksgiving. No...it seems everything that I have is full.
My computer is full, my cell phone is full, my Ipad is full, my external hard drive is full and worst of all my cloud is full.  My garage is full as well as most of my closets, drawers, desk tops, cabinets and junk drawers.
Now I'm not a hoarder but I do keep a lot of things that I might never use again. Like I have written here before I have enough tee shirts so that I will never need to by another one for the rest of my life. I also have things like a every record that I ever bought, memorabilia like a ticket stub from a Fenway Park ball game that my father took me to when I was 8 years old. Some of these things I will never get rid of .....but some of it has to go. I found some newspapers from my team, the NY Giants, documenting their year as they made the run to their first Super Bowl. They can go...after one afternoon of rereading them....lol...along with manuals, receipts and other paper work of things that long ago were used and thrown out.
I watch episodes of "Tiny Houses" on tv and think ..."I don't need all this space any more...I could live in a smaller place someday"....but where would I put all of my stuff?
You know what most of it is for me?....memories...of things I did...people I have known and places I have been...it is all in the past....time to move on....well maybe after one last look at everything one more time.
Now that I listen that blues record still sounds good even if it is mono and my number 56 LT jersey still fits and the VHS version of the Three Stooges on New Years eve 1986 recorded from WSBK Ch 38 UHF......ahhh...maybe some things can stay... just a little longer.
I gotta go make more room.

Dog Bites Man

I remember opening the screen door as I had everyday at the same address . The newspaper was still in my hand as I glanced into the backyard to see how my friend the giant German Shepard was behaving. As usual he was barking loudly and running toward me. Normally he would get to the end of his leash tied securely to his dog house in the yard far enough away so that any visitor would not feel threatened but still feel the fear of his menacing growl. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that he seemed closer today when I put the paper down. I had barely closed the screen door when I felt the hot breath of the beast as he closed in on me, leaping for my face. Instinctively I raised my arm for protection. Luckily it had been raining that day I was wearing my raincoat. I am convinced that it saved my arm from many stitches. I swung my arm with all of my weight giving me just enough space from the growling teeth to make my escape. As I hit the fence door closing it behind me I was able to breath again with my four legged enemy inches away from me on the other side barking loudly with  frustration because he had lost his prey. Being a paperboy was a dangerous job when I was a boy.

That was the last and only time that I was bitten or even attempted to be bitten by anything let alone a dog. Now you would think with my history of stitches, falls, and many landscaping and house repair mishaps that I would have had a dog bite or two. But no, or at least not until earlier this week.

I'm riding my bike on a nearby trail when I came a couple and what looked like a friendly dog. As I passed them I felt a slight sting on my leg as the dog, straining at his leash, leaped at my ankle. Well my sock began to fill with blood and I knew that my relaxing ride was over. The owners apologized and I left not thinking of the pain in ankle but the doctor visits, shots, paperwork and the " what happened to you today?" question that Jo was going to ask when she got home from work and she noticed all of the blood soaked paper towels scattered throughout the house.

I don't like these small accidents and not because of the damage they do to my now scared and ravaged old body but because of endless explanations of how this particular mishap happened. The latest in a long line of what makes my family and friends eyes roll and sigh thinking he has done it to himself again....guilty. I have always be sum of the various physical mishaps of my life with the scares that I carry acting as permanent reminder of what I have done to my body. I have only broken something in me once..( yea that was a big one ) ... but I have had a problem keeping the blood on the inside where it belongs. Oh well it is recovery time again.   

Friends

We sat in the car on the way to the show. The music was flowing as we argued about whether we were going to be early or late. We were on our way to a concert, something that along with sports has bound us together since we were kids.

I have known all of these guys for over 50 years. That is long long time to stay friends with anybody let alone a bunch of greying , knee replacement ,paunchy, overly gabby and opinionated , old men. ( and I do mean old as in we ain't young and certainly are not going live to be 100 so we aren't middle age...but also old as in we have survived and that is sometimes hard to do.) We have done many things in those years. From playing endless baseball games on warm summer days that seemed to last forever or least until the only bat that we had broke or enough of us had to leave for paper routes which meant that more than one outfield position was "closed" . By closed I mean if the ball was hit there it was a foul ball and if only left field was open because of a lack of 10 year old boys well then game over....whew!....that kind of closed. Now we go back to where we use to play pick up basketball games next to my Catholic grammar school. We shoot some baskets and actually one of us is crazy enough to challenge the local kids to a game. Well nobody got hurt and I didn't have to go and get stitches so it was a good night.  I have more stories and memories with these guys than I care or will ever retell to anybody but them. We do tend to forget some details of things in the past. Its like a foggy day when you can only see so far and details of things around are some what muted.              

Tonight we were going to see an old guitar hero but instead of the dank, dark, smokey, beautifully bad old bar, we were going to a casino....oh well better to play at a gambling house than fade away. It was the music and the company that mattered now. Our knees hurt from walking up to the nose bleed seats and we didn't stay long enough to lose any money but we had a great night because we were together. The story here is if you have friends ...keep them..cherish them...if you dont get some....soon.....your gonna need them...remember nobody here gets out alive....so its important to have somebody to help you enjoy the ride.

Rock on Boys...I love ya!

The Flag

I stood there focusing on the flag draped over the coffin. I had seen this ceremony before but this was different. This was my dad. The military gun salute still echoing thru the trees as the last refrains of taps put and end to the solemn ceremony. I was given the flag the draped my father's coffin. I felt the pride of having known that he had served his country.

I return often the Rhode Island Veterans Cemetery. I find it to be a calming place to reflect . I am especially moved on Memorial Day when each marker is given a flag of it own.

The flags there and the one on my porch have personal meanings for me. I am sure that everyone has their own feeling when they the flag, after all it a symbol and that is what symbols do they make us think.

I was thinking of this the other day on the anniversary of 9/11.  As I understand it during that day it was deemed proper etiquette for the flag to be flown at half staff throughout the day. In my travels throughout the day I noticed variations on this. Some people who had proudly positioned flag poles in their front yards were flying the flag at full staff. Perhaps they had a reason for this, away on vacation, perhaps a unmindful of the etiquette of the day. It is their choice. There is no law that I know as to how the flag must be displayed....again it is a symbol. I have noticed the flag, as a symbol displayed  various ways from iphone covers to swimming trunks to advertisements on floats in parades. All of which according to what I have read are not proper uses of the flag according to the United States flag code .  A veteran I met once at ceremony at the cemetery once told me that he and his friends fought first of all for each other but also for country where people can live and express there opinions without fear.

I also noticed that some government institutions observed this day different which I did find confusing. Some were flying the flag the way that i thought was proper, half staff, others had a flag at full staff or no flag at all. ( I passed on government facility today and the flag was still at half staff)

although some of this does irritate me I have to step back and realize that it is still a symbol and although some of what I see may not be "proper" it is not in any way meant to be disrespectful and I think that is the most important thing...respect ...for those who severed and continue to serve and sacrifice so that we can enjoy the life that we have.

the last time...the first time

I'm sitting in a tight seat way up in the upper deck enjoying the show and as I watch the show I begin to think that this may be the last time that I ever see this person perform. I'm not getting any younger and the performer now in his seventy's isn't either. How many more tours will he do. The last time I saw him was twenty years ago. Is he going to be touring when he is ninety?

When your young you have so many chances to do things over. Right the wrongs, relive past glories, but as you get older those opportunities diminish. It is simple arithmetic.

It made me think of the things that I may never do again because of age, circumstance or opportunity.

I will never need to buy another t shirt.

Climb Mt Washington

Ride another century...( that is a one day 100 mile bike ride)

Put another roof on my house

Buy another new car

Buy another tie

But as there are many things that because of time and circumstance that I may never do there are some things that I have never done but may try for the first time.

I learning to play the guitar (finally...although I may never get beyond a few notes it is fun trying)

I am gonna finish writing a short story

I did build a deck (pergola...lol)

I'm learning to cook on my own.

I'm gonna try surfing soon

and some other things like clamming,juggling, bag piping, and growing a tomato.

Ok ...never say never....

There is always time to learn something new

Rock on

My wife says: " I hope that we don't get caught next to somebody loud and obnoxious." "Don't worry" I say." everyone here is old like us,,,they all just want to sit down."

We are at a concert and it is full of old hippies. Women wearing their daughters mini skirts and 60 plus year old men in tank tops, earrings and Born to be Wild tattoo's.

We find our way to our nearly front row seats. I usually like to sit on the aisle but we are in a few seats wondering who will be our neighbors. My wife's biggest fear is soon realized when very large man sits down next to her swallowing his seat and half of hers as he struggles to get comfortable in seats that were made for children under 12.

The show starts right on time. Gone are the days of sitting in the Boston Garden in a cloud of smoke for 5 hours as the band is held in a Warwick jail cell for being involved with in an altercation with a member of the local media.

From the first chord of blues guitar great Kenny Wayne Shepard our view is blocked by the overly enthusiastic middle age woman who is more interested in the the lead singer looks than any of the music as she screams at him every time the revolving stage brings the band in front of us.

The band is lost ...they cant get off the stage because it revolves and since it is in the middle of what is a huge tent with seats , there is no back stage. They hurry, following a confused old roadie with a gray beard and ponytail, up the stairs past us. Sure enough, the middle aged teenager sitting in front of us nearly leaps into the aisle after one of her idols in the band. Her husband just sits and cringes...heh ....its her night out. That is what most us of look like. Old hippies who have been beaten down by jobs, kids, mortgages. etc and yet have a little wildness still inside that the old rock n' roll seems to feed whenever we hear it. Either in the car on some classic rock station that we lip sync to on the way to work in traffic or the time we can cut loose at a concert with out the kids watching and rolling their eyes.

I know its only rock n' roll but I like it.   

Junk?

I was looking for a way of watering some plants without having to stand there and do it. I know that I had a sprinkler some place. I found it in a pile outside near the hose. Broken and battered but still in one piece...but did it work? Yes!!! the water came spurting out from every crack and hole ,but yes it did what I wanted it to do...spread water without me standing over it.
I keep a lot of things that still work. My father in law looks at me like I'm some crazy swamp Yankee penny pincher.  "Why don't you buy a new one?" he says as I take a part the retractable dog lease that just broke when Lola went nuts and bolted up a tree after a squirrel. "It has screws" I say .."let see what is inside and if it can be fixed"
I have a SUV with 200,000 miles on it, dents, scratches and several warning lights blinking on the dash. It gets me to Home Depot, local trails for dog walking and to the boat launch for kayaking.
Our grill is pile of black rust clinging together for one last burger and I have about a dozen old flags that have to be retired properly but until then the best of them are displayed on the property at various appropriate times of year.

I keep things that still work...maybe not like they did when they were new but they still do what I need them to do.

A few things...

 David Letterman

I watched the end of the David Letterman show and remembered the time we had tickets and took the trip to New York. As chance would have it my back went out the day before the trip but I was determined to go. I was in pain as we walked the sidewalks of the Big Apple on the way to the show.

We got there early so the line wasn't to long. I was standing there in pain letting building hold me up when one of the shows interns came out to check on the line. She noticed me standing there in agony and asked if she could help. I told her I was fine but she insisted on bringing out a chair for me. When the doors opened the rest of the audience was let in as I sat and waited. The girl then led us to what would be front row seats. Well we got tickets again latter that year and sure enough my back was out again. I brought along my cane and again front row were ours. Sometimes my agony can have its benefits.

Memorial Day

I usually take a ride to the Veterans Cemetery on Memorial Day to visit the graves of my dad, family and friends.I find it comforting to ride thru the sea of small American flags that mark each grave.

I think of the sacrifice that veterans have given so that we can have the freedoms that we often take for granted. I wait and watch others visit there loved ones. I feel especially bad for the younger people we may be visiting for the first time a loved one who has recently died.

One year I met an older man who like my father had been a fireman. He was visiting the grave of a friend. It seems that all three of them had served together on the PFD.

We swapped stories about my dad and his friend and as I left thought about what I had learned that day about my father, something that I had never know before. You never know what you will learn on a simple ride to the cemetery.

What me?

I saw them, all together, behind the tent, playing with a knife. A clear violation of the rules of a scouting merit badge. Should I turn them in? Me...the boy in charge?

It was a warm sunny day and I was on my to half drown myself during a swimming test for my promotion to first class in the Boy Scouts. I remember walking out onto the dock to the area beyond the beach where the water was over my head. I couldn't swim. I knew that. But I was put in charge of my patrol as the oldest and longest member of my troop to achieve the rank of second class.

As we got on the bus my troop leader barked out my name in his best imitation of Sargent Carter yelling at Gomer Pyle. "Tymon!!!...he yelled...your patrol leader isn't going to camp....measles or something....your in charge."  The words were barely out of his mouth when I felt my knees get weak and head begin to ache. My two weeks at Boy Scout summer camp had now turned from high lite of my young life to a bus ride to Alcatraz...( ok... I know there is no bridge to Alcatraz....give me a break here ) . What???...Me???...in charge???

 Well there I was standing next to three other "swimmers" about to jump to my death in water over my head by who knows how much. ( I could hear it now..."If he just stood up and stopped all that flailing around he wouldn't have drowned"). I had to do it. I had to prove that I was worthy of being in charge and get that damm promotion to First Class.

The water was colder than I thought it would be but my strategy was clear. I would hold my breath for the first lap and swim completely under water until I had to turn and come back. A quick breath and the same thing home to victory over my demons and the promotion. I made it about ten feet before I ran out of oxygen and began flopping around like what I can only imagine looked like dieing seal. A pole stabbed the water near my head. I grabbed for it and was pulled out of the water. I headed back to my tent, defeated. When I got there my friends were still there disregarding the rules of their Totin' Chip merit badge. So I took the knife and threatened to turn them in. Sometimes you have to take charge even if you haven't earned it.

Old Soles

I'm running out...of old shoes that is. The ones that are comfortable and familiar. The ones with memories of where they have been. The ones that I cant buy a replacement for. They are all wearing out. Since my days in the office are over the dress shoes have become a dust covered pile in the closet next to the lonely gaggle of ties nearby. My daily footwear along with many things in my life have changed.
This winter I found a pair of "duck boots" in the back of the closet. I had bought them at Walmart years ago for some reason. They weren't my everyday shoes. They worked well for me as I shoveled my way thru the winter.
Then suddenly as if on cue knowing that they were no longer be needed as spring approached I noticed a crack. My feet were no longer dry. Searching for a replacement I noticed a pair of old work boots that must be 15 years old. They still fit!!!. Well it's time to start work on those outside projects, new roof, new porch, new paint job for the house and with that I must chose a pair of shoes. I usually wear some hiking boots. The ones I have now are nearing there end or headed for a trip to the back of the closet. I have had a replacement pair, new in the box and waiting there for the last six months but they have yet to make it into the daily rotation.
I have a lot of decisions to make. I guess I'll kick back and relax and contemplate my footwear future all the while wearing my favorite slippers, the ones with ( I can hear Kayla's sighing and her eyes rolling as I say this" the duct tape keeping them together.    

Spring forward into mud

The snow is mounting outside as it does on every Sunday night since I can remember.That means that Monday is shoveling day. Unlike most, I look forward to the task at hand. First the house and driveway must be cleared then the hydrants and now to locals who for what ever reason cant shovel themselves. I am I shovel. The air is crisp and quiet. I can feel my breathing and every muscle in my back aches but I don't push it beyond what my screaming muscles can handle.I stop in mid-shovel to enjoy the picture. Everything white and cold, my gloves ,hat scarfs and various layers of clothes insulate me from the real cold. It isn't uncomfortable. The snow is light, almost like frozen white feathers. No heavy slush but it is so cold.

Soon this will all be over. The sun will get higher in the sky as the temperature climbs above single digits. Things will begin the melt. It will be a mixture of rain and snow next time. Heavier to move. The air will be warmer. Everything will be wet not frozen. Messy, muddy, sloppy.....Spring is on the way! The snow will become dirty without its weekly covering. Water will leak into basements as the melting continues. The ground covered for months will reveal itself as a muddy mess of unraked leaves and lost gloves and old coffee cups.

I guess I have to change with the seasons. But I will miss the snow. Then again there is always the hot humid days of summer. I guess I just enjoy extremes.
    

Junk

I have a hard time throwing things away. Especially if I have had it for and extended period of time. Now I don't think that I am a hoarder but when I have watched the show I find myself saying "heh, that lamp from the 1964 Worlds Fair could be worth something....and your throwing it out?" The longer that I have something the harder it is for me to get rid of. Ill look at an old ticket stub from a Led Zeppelin concert on Halloween night 1969 and say " why did I keep this" Then I remember that it was my first concert and that there only a couple of hundred of us were there that night to watch would be come one of the greatest bands in rock history. I go threw this process every once and awhile and I know that some things will survive the purge. Usually if I haven't looked at something, a note, a receipt or an old coupon for $15.00 oil change from 1965 at a now defunct garage, I will reluctantly throw it out. Some things become more valuable with time. They are often categorized as antiques but to me that are just junk that I can now sell on ebay for twice what I paid for it.
It can be fun though to go thru the memories as I toss a tee shirt that I wore during my first hike up Mount Washington but has been relegated to a hole filled rag used to wipe the grease off tools in the garage. But everything has its time and purpose and nothing lasts forever so toss it out and fill a landfill some place.   

Predictions

Some people at this time of the year look back and review that past year. They also look forward with resolutions for the new year. I guess that I do the same thing in a way since I'm great a making lists for myself. For instance a list of things that I want to do this year would include ....climb a mountain in New Hampshire again, learn a new language or ride in the "flattest century of the east" again....(as I think about this as I'm writing,  my list contains things that I have already done. Maybe I should add more new adventures to the list.)

Instead I'm going to make some predictions that may not come true this year or in any year in the near future but  these are things that I think will come true soon or later:

1. There will be cars that drive themselves

I can remember being thirteen and worried that I would never get to drive a car because by the time I got my license there would be flying cars and I would have lost my chance to hot rod around the neighborhood. I think that I was watching to many Jetsons episodes.

2. The NFL will become an also ran when it comes to big name national sports.

It has nothing to do with under inflated footballs or domestic violence or athletes getting arrested for who knows what . It will be brought down my the moms of the country who will not allow there young boys to play a sport where they can get hit in the head, knocked silly and with possible injures that could affect the rest of their life. 

3. Everyone will have the option of having a chip not unlike those in cats and dogs surgically installed in them.

A computer chip that will have everything on it from their drivers liscense, credit card, social secruiry number, medical history and the service record of their car at jiffy lube. The chip will be part of a system that
will connect to our eyes to take pictures and record video our hands to writte documents..etc . We wont need watches or phones or computers. We will be able to connect to everyone and everything by just thinking about it...sort of like a second brain with our regular brain taking care of the body's other functions like breathing, walking etc.   

Welcome to the future.



Anybody else have any predictions?

I'm not nice......

I don't kick dogs, push old lady's down stairs or rob money from the Santa outside Walmart when he isn't looking....I said that I wasn't nice I didn't say that I was a bad person.

I don't give out compliments easily

I don't smile a lot in the morning

I don't give a crap sometimes


It isn't all negative


I am sarcastic

I am impatient....(sometimes)

I am a pain in the ass.....(ask Jo)

I am pompous....(ask my Thursday night friends....lol)


When I was the boss at one of my many jobs some of the people that I managed were people that I considered friends. I know that this can be dangerous....mixing friendship with business. I tend to break the rules sometimes. I go by gut, feel or instinct occasionally. Well I had to evaluate people for raises and one of my "friends" didn't get a one. He thought that he should have. I was accused of not being nice.....well nice is not good for business. I will give you the shirt off my back. I will pick you up at 3 in the morning pay your bail and ask no questions on the ride home.....but I may forget your birthday even though I have known you all of my life.....I'm loyal, generous and helpful........but I'm not nice.

I hate waste

I'm rummaging thru the refrigerator for some to eat for lunch. There are several leftovers from one of Joann's delicious dinners. (i'm not just saying that because I want to continue to eat and I know she might read this but it instead it is because it is true, she is a great cook). I'm looking for lunch. My problem is I cant tell which is the oldest leftover. I know that even refrigerated delights prepared with as much love as good ingredients have a shelf life. (am I laying on to thick with this I love my wife's cooking stuff?...well it is good)

I just hate to throw things away. Unless it smells or is some strange color, neither of which is easy for a color blind, always congested man to easily determine. So I try everything before it goes to the worst place possible , the garbage.

That "hill" in Johnston is already Rhode Islands only mountain and I hate to contribute to it s ever growing height. So I save things..everything. From leftovers to old reading glasses that lose a screw. The same glasses that I break constantly and cost $2.00 at Job Lot or a free from a certain family member.

I save newspapers and twigs in the yard for the wood stove,old tee shirts (remember that blog?), old photos and books, old cars, old friends and old albums,  If I do throw something out it is really out lived its usefulness for not just me but for anybody.

I am getting better. I've started selling and giving away stuff that I don't need. Giving a stranger a less than start of the art video game system that he will use a family Christmas present for his two young daughters makes me feel that not throwing things away can have its good side, everything doesn't have to be saved forever, just not wasted . Time for lunch..  

Check the website ....I'm trying to make a transition from here to there for all future blog posts

steventymon.com

      

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With my boots on

I only have to do this every couple of years. Doctor's visit ?...nah...car inspection?...nah,..paint the house?....nope. I have to buy new shoes...hiking boots to be specific. I don't like to shop for clothes and I usually get help from Kayla or Jo because if left alone in a store that doesn't have tools, electronics or lumber my senses shut down and I become a walking zombie looking for a way out.
So here I am trying on boots in discount store. Now I have learned the hard way that this one thing that i cant scrimp on. It doesn't pay to buy cheap shoes. I have enough ties, t shirts, shorts, jeans etc...to probably last the rest of my life. So it seems the only "shopping" that I have to do is for shoes and underwear. I would continue to use my old boots especially now that they are broken in after a couple years of use but now that we have a new dog I will be out hiking again in the winter woods and I need something to keep my feet from getting wet and freezing my toes. I do have several old pairs of boots in various stages of decay that I use in a sort of rotation depending on how they smell or how wet they are on a particular day. I recently saw a show where a man used duck tape to keep a pair of old comfy boots together...mmmm..that might work if I ever decided that I never wanted to out with my wife in public again
I guess its time to shop. After about an hour of trying on various pairs of boots we head home with my new purchase. It doesn't end there because after a week of trying them on hundreds of times, putting them back in the box then on again, I decide that they aren't the right boots. I return them and start the whole process over again. I know its exhausting...( and just as thrilling and captivating to read about ..right?). So here i am stuck in a vicious cycle of buying trying and returning...and
those old boots look more comfy every minute.  

Notes from a trip to Virginia

Notes from a 1400 mile trip to Virginia with my father in law and Joann


I now know every "Country Western" song every recorded

The people in the south are very friendly helpful and cordial

I get cramps in my leg if I drive more than 3 straight hours

Why cant I pump my own gas in New Jersey??..I have been pumping gas here since I was fifteen

It is fun to watch an older southern gentleman regain his rural drawl as he gets closer to his boyhood home.

Southern people going into Walmart,( most over 200lbs...even kids), move slower than the traffic entering the George Washington Bridge

Dogs run loose in the neighborhoods of the South

And everyone has at least five...and they all try to out bark each other

Beer on the porch at 11am is considered lunch

How does a waitress remember what somebody orders for breakfast when they only visit there home town a couple of times a year.

They eat more for breakfast than I do for all of my meals of the day...combined

Everyone knows everyone and all of their personal business...at least the waitresses do

Bacon, eggs, grits, ham, bacon, sausage, white toast, bacon, coffee ( no lattes), bacon  and chewing tobacco

Real men dont wear shorts in the south

They can smell a old Yankee commie hippie coming a mile away
, especially if he is wearing shorts.

Nobody walks in the south...the sidewalks ( if there were any) roll up after 8pm

They smile and wave a lot in the south

It was a great trip...you always go the extra mile for your family

Stitches

I was rounding first base after having hit the ball into what was considered left field of our made up baseball diamond. The "ballpark" was in the middle of the asphalt playground of my grammar school. If you got the ball into left field it might roll for ever considering the flat grass less surface that we played on. So I was thinking at least a double and if it kept rolling past the fat kid in the outfield I might have a shot at an inside the park home run. I was fast then,... real fast.
As i rounded second on my way to a home run I saw my best friend who had been playing near second base holding the ball. How was that possible? To late...we collided because I could run better than I could stop. The next thing that I remember is everyone standing over me including my friend who I had just run into and they all had the same look on their faces. It was a look horror the kind that 10 year old boys have when they see a friend in trouble but are saying ( some out loud)..."WOW...that looks bad!". Ten year old boys are not subtle ....cruel, honest...but not subtle.
I was about to get up and protest some kind of interference that prevented me from getting to next base when I noticed this warm red liquid running down my arm. My head hurt...there was red everywhere...I sat down and before I new it I was being ushered to a local doctors office who lived in the neighborhood. Suddenly my mom was was there as I lay on a table blinded by overhead lights. The room was cold and white. With the doctors face inches from stinking of some kind of baloney sandwich that he probably had for lunch.." Look , he shouted..you can see the bone" as he parted the skin above my eye. I could see the look in my mothers eyes and it was a look that suggested she didn't share the doctors morbid fascination with my wound. "Stitches, probably four", he bellowed. "But he has never had stitches!", my mother mourned, knowing that my was angelic face would never be the same again.
"Cool", I thought. A scar...yeah!! Nothing like a scar on your face to show how tough you are.
Well some fifty plus years later and probably another 60 or 70 stitches on that same face I am not any tougher just scarred. I often said that if I was a prize fighter I would have lost every fight in the first round with the first punch. The punch would have knocked me down and the blood that would come spurting out of the cut on my face would be enough for my corner to through in the towel every time.
I have these stitches most from playing sports, specifically basketball with friends. At least once a season ,sometimes several times, I would catch an elbow and the blood would flow. The emergency room new my name and kiddingly said that they were naming one of the rooms after me.
At work they would just shake there head and wonder when I would give up this foolish game.
Well I finally did but, not because of the carnage inflicted on my face but instead because we all just got old. Instead of running on a basketball court we watched it on TV over a beer no more huffing and puffing of arthritic bones up and down some smelly gym.
I still get stitches mostly now from nails, hedge clippers, chainsaws, falling out of trees or off stonewalls...basic combat yard work. But most of them now aren't on my face...I said most not all...after all I do have a tradition to maintain.

I'm not angry....

I'm listening to the radio as I drive to Providence. I usually listen to music or some podcast that I have but for some reason I was tuned to AM radio and everybody was mad at something. Abortion, who is going to be the mayor, the President, the weather, pot holes,etc.

Nothing seemed to get me going or make me as mad as the people...but the weaving cars in front me, cell phones in hand, not using a blinker, tailgating....arrrghhh !!! ..wait I guess I do get angry. But I don't usually get angry about what makes a lot of people blood boil. I've found if it is something that I cant control I can have an opinion but I don't get to excited about it. Maybe I was just having a better day than some of the people on the radio or wasn't as frustrated as some seem to be..( which I think is the real problem...they feel helpless in the their ability to control things they don't like or agree with...how is that for analyzing everyone but me?...lol). Oh well..lets see what else can we get angry about...The Giants offensive line, Ebola, taxes,every politician, Mondays....what else have you got?  

Change

As we get older I think we look forward to change about as much as we look forward to a trip to the dentist. (Sorry Jo)  I usually like to shake things up once in a while. Try something different like learning sign language or just driving a new route to work. Most of the time however I am like everyone else, a creature of habit.
When you change something you can't just do it once, especially if you want it to stick. The hard part is making sure that change is permanent. Whew.... that aint easy.
If it is something that is important to you or a change from something you done a certain way for a long time it becomes even harder.
But I have found to try a new experience, for me, isn't as hard as thinking a certain way about something.
I can change how I eat and what I eat, for instance, easier than I can change my mind. I only eat a few times a day but my mind never stops. I am always willing to try anything even if it means changing something very important to me..... even...the way I think.