Life Goes On

My father used to always say, and he may have borrowed this quote from someone else as he was known to do,  that the first thing he did in the morning was to check the obituaries in the newspaper to see if his name was in there, this way he knew if he should go back to bed or not. My mother on the other hand would always read them to see if anyone she knew had passed on.

What's Done is Done

You know from my last few posts, I have been somewhat nostalgic lately, thinking about days gone by. That always happens to me around any holiday, especially Independence Day, because I remember the cook-outs, the times with family and friends, etc. Sometimes I guess I can get a little down, but certainly not as much as I used to. And every time a holiday passes, I always think “There goes another year” and wonder how many are left.


There is an interesting phenomenon in our family, it can best be described as the “Never let no wrong, whether real or perceived, be forgotten” axiom. We have a habit of holding grudges for a long, long time. I suppose this may be true for a lot of families, I don’t know, but I do know it seems to be prevalent in mine. You would think that the pain from something which happened thirty or forty years ago would eventually fade, but nope, not with us. And I admit, I can be just as guilty as anyone else; of course in my case my anger is certainly justified.

You see about 53 years ago, my family decided we would all spend the day at the lake. In those days the original camp was split between all the brothers and one sister, each getting it for two weeks each year. These were also the days of close families, we lived in one house, my Uncle and Aunt lived next door, my other Uncle and Aunt lived across the street and I think there were some other relatives around somewhere as well. Back to my missive. So everyone piled in the two cars and off they went to the lake. I say they, because your writer was left behind, tied to the porch, left for the squirrels and chip munks which plied the neighborhood.

Of course it wasn’t until sometime later my mother realized I was still there and she made my father turn the old 53 Chevy around to retrieve me. Now of course my mother and father always claimed that I was never in any danger and I wasn’t harmed, but I know this is not true. There are many emotional scars which I have carried for sometime. The worst part is they weren’t going to tell me. But then that’s just me I guess. There are other wrongs which are still brought up when the family gets together, which seemed to be quite serious at the time, a wedding gift here, a snub at a family function, a misplaced kitchen utensil, normal, functional families would have forgotten these things long ago. But not us.

But now, as I have aged and gotten wiser, I realize these things are not important. They are but mere oil drips on the highway of life, and other than the shear entertainment value, aren’t worth still stressing over. After all, what is important is family and friends. The good times, the love shared, and not whether so and so was seated next to someone else at a wedding, or whether Aunt Mary spent more on a gift than Aunt Flo. The day will come, and sooner than any of us would like to think when we will be all alone. Our friends and families will be gone, we will have nothing but the memories left. Shouldn’t we be left with good ones? Shouldn’t we let bygones be bygones and bury the hatchet and move on?

Well, of course I always keep my hatchet with me just in case I’m tied up and left for the squirrels again.

I've got to be me

It was a hot day behind the dirty windshield today, but i survived. Getting ready to head home.

I was thinking about how I've changed in the last two years today. Of course just a little over two years is when the love of my life entered into it. People say you never really change, and I believe that to a point. I don't think you can change who you are, but you can change what you hide and what you don't.

If Only...

Two words so many of us say. If only I had been born rich instead of handsome. If only I would win the lottery. If only I didn't have to work so much. If only I had done this instead of that. I was one who used to think about the last one quite a bit. I think back to when I was in high school and if I had made different choices back then, what my life would have become. I think back to when I was in college, and what I might have done differently and how my life might have turned out. I think back to when I worked for my Dad and if I had stuck it out, where I would be now. If only I knew then what I know now, And when I do this "If Only" thinking I always come up with the same two observations.

If it smells like a skunk....

So I was driving around thinking the other day. Now before I get into what I was thinking about I need to say this, I actually received a comment on one of my old journal entries saying that I think too much. Well let me say this about that, it is better to be driving around thinking than not thinking.

Ok, so I was thinking about my kids and how they don’t ever come to me for advice, well not very often anyway. Or, when they do they don’t usually take it. I remember what someone told me once and how true it is “As you get older your father gets smarter”. I know that was certainly true in my case. I never asked my father for advice but my father was one of these people who would give you advice but you didn’t know it. It wouldn’t be until sometime later, even years, when I would remember something he told me and I would take that and use it. I find this especially to be true in the way my work ethic has been formed.

My Dad would say things like “You never have time to do something right the first time but you always have time to do it over.” Or “A fast nickel is better than a slow dime”. And then there was this one “Never kill a skunk to close to home”. Did you ever kill a skunk too close to home?

My son asked me for some advice once. He asked what was the key to keeping a woman happy? I thought about this for awhile and told him what I have learned in the last few years since my divorce. I said “Security son.” Well at least that is what the woman I hit on in bars would always call out anyway.

Then there was the time I had a woman banging on my bedroom door all night. She was banging on the windows making a hell of a racket. I got so tired of it I finally got out of bed and unlocked the door so she could leave.

Ok, I know I am being somewhat silly today. I guess I am just stressed about some things that have been going on here at the little house on the lake. My daughter has decided to leave her husband, has actually done it and it is getting ugly. Tonya and I are being put in the middle of this and I don’t like it. I will not let anything come between me and her. When I tried to give my daughter advice she basically told me she was an adult and knows what she is doing, which may or may not be true, but I hope she realizes before it is too late that “You can’t kill a skunk too close to home.”

In conclusion, did you ever drive around and all of a sudden look around and have no idea how you got there? That is driving around not thinking.