I have started my countdown to death. That's right, measuring the time until I die. I know that will seem weird to most, if not all, of you, but hear me out before you make a judgment.
I am about 55.5 years old. I saw on the internet the other day that the average life expectancy for an American male is 69.5. I know, I thought it was older too, and probably some sources of data suggest that it is, but this is what I found at this one particular source. That means, on an average, I have 14 years left to live. Of course I could die tomorrow, or I might live to be 120 years old, but statistically I have 14 years.
Some would think that is a morbid way of thinking. Some might feel it is a very negative way to think, a very pessimistic perspective. WRONG! You are all wrong! This thought process, for me, is a celebration of life. Think about it; rather than taking life for granted or squandering it away with pointless worries, I am very aware of the blessings I have and the knowledge that they won't last forever allows me to truly appreciate every moment.
Here's a scenario that I find interesting. My boss calls me in and assigns me a project. A big project that will require massive overtime and undoubtedly be highly stressful. This project is expected to last about one year. Normally I would say, sure, I'll do it, and start this dreaded task. Now, however, I have a means of measuring the value of my time. Let's see, one year is about 7% of my life. Is that worth it? Naw, I'll take a pass.
This works great with everything. Two weeks is about .3% of my life. Sure, it doesn't sound like much, but it all adds up. My family wants to go on a two week vacation. That's great! Then I find out they want to go to Disney World. That's .3% of my life in Disney World. No thanks.
Decisions start to become quite easy because I am always focused on what is important. I can more easily assess spending time on things of little or no value. This is great! Like I said, it's not morbid at all. It is truly a celebration of life!
Let's see, it took me twenty minutes to write this, that's about . . . .
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
My Kids
Oh my gosh......kids! Who ever thought they could be so much work! I have three kids, all of adult age, and over the years I have realized two things. First, they can completely drain you of all your energy; second, they can totally fullfil every dream you ever had.
How can this be? Well, after all the technological developments in this world, we need to understand that we are first and foremost human beings. I have more "trinkets" than people did hundreds of years ago (or even one year ago for that matter), but the human element, especially when it comes to family, has remained the same from the begining of time. We all are who we are, including our kids.
I have three children, and I view them all as special. However, there was a time I thought otherwise. Let's talk about cars. At one point my second child, a son, drove my car (a 1995 Taurus) into another vehicle, crushing in the right side of the front end of the car. I didn't want to spend the money to fix this since the car continued to run just fine, but then a few weeks later my oldest child, a daughter, had a "minor" accident that crushed in the left side of the front end.
At this point the car resembled an arrow. Was I upset? Of course I was! I was so angry I was trembling, and my kids never liked that side of me. I decided I was never going to repair the damage since they had caused it, and they should be held responsible. That is until one night I had to go out and pick up my son and I took their battered car simply because it was the most easily accessible in the driveway. When I turned into a dark, unlit street I realized the headlights were not working properly. I was a bit confused since I had checked the lights and I knew they were functioning fine. As I drove through overhanging trees I realized the problem; the lights were tilted upward so that they illuminated everything above me, but nothing in front of me. The tree branches were bright, but the road was dark. I knew then that no matter what lesson I was trying to teach my kids I could not let them drive this unsafe vehicle. I fixed the car the next day.
Oh, but remember I have three children. A couple of years later my youngest child, a daughter, pulled out of our driveway and began moving forward. True, she had important things on her mind like what song was on her iPod, and that may explain the tragedy that ensued. She travelled all of sixty feet before she encountered our mail box, which, luckily, was on a brick stand. Well, she side swiped the mail box, and the brick stand won the battle, shattering the side view mirror. The most incredible thing about the whole incident was that she stopped the car, got out, and cursed the mail box as if it had attacked her for no reason. As hard as I try, it's hard not to love that.
Well, in short, the same result occured. I refused to fix the mirror until I drove the car and realized it was unsafe. How could I let my baby girl (as irresponsible as she was) drive an unsafe vehicle?
The bottom line is this: after all of these incidents (and there were many more) my kids have turned out to be wonderful people. I remember as a young parent hoping and praying that they would be okay, that they would get through the teenage years without any serious problems. We all feel the same thing; we don't want our kids to experience the problems so common today; alcohol, drugs, pregnancy, etc. I used to think that if I was a good parent nothing bad would happen to my kids. But anyone who has raised kids knows differently; there is good parenting and there is simply luck. I can control what I do, but I cannot control what they do, and I certainly cannot control luck.
For me, things have worked out wonderfully. All three of my kids have grown into mature young adults. In fact, I consider my kids to be my best friends, which just a few years ago I would have thought was impossible.
So what's the message? Well, I'm not sure that I have a specific message, except for this; you never want to let your kids rule your life, but at the same time you can never totaly rule theirs. What's the balance? Well, that's why parenting is an art and not a science. I know this; I was often concerned about my kids, so my wife and I instilled "rules" to be follwed, but the enfiorcement of the rules was very flexible, depending on who they were with, what they were doing, etc. In the end, my kids have been the most rewarding part of my life. As I see it now, I could happily give up anything that I ever experienced except for my kids; they have given me my reason for living.
Kids today are often spoiled. I do not think that is a good thing. On the other hand, our kids are our kids; first and foremost they need our love, acceptance, and our example of leadership. In many ways they become who we are. The best thing I can do for my kids is to be a good person myself. I look back now at the smashed front end and the broken side view mirror and I realize that while I wish those things had never happened, they were so trivial in the big picture of things. I love my kids. I would trade a fender or a mirror for them any day.
How can this be? Well, after all the technological developments in this world, we need to understand that we are first and foremost human beings. I have more "trinkets" than people did hundreds of years ago (or even one year ago for that matter), but the human element, especially when it comes to family, has remained the same from the begining of time. We all are who we are, including our kids.
I have three children, and I view them all as special. However, there was a time I thought otherwise. Let's talk about cars. At one point my second child, a son, drove my car (a 1995 Taurus) into another vehicle, crushing in the right side of the front end of the car. I didn't want to spend the money to fix this since the car continued to run just fine, but then a few weeks later my oldest child, a daughter, had a "minor" accident that crushed in the left side of the front end.
At this point the car resembled an arrow. Was I upset? Of course I was! I was so angry I was trembling, and my kids never liked that side of me. I decided I was never going to repair the damage since they had caused it, and they should be held responsible. That is until one night I had to go out and pick up my son and I took their battered car simply because it was the most easily accessible in the driveway. When I turned into a dark, unlit street I realized the headlights were not working properly. I was a bit confused since I had checked the lights and I knew they were functioning fine. As I drove through overhanging trees I realized the problem; the lights were tilted upward so that they illuminated everything above me, but nothing in front of me. The tree branches were bright, but the road was dark. I knew then that no matter what lesson I was trying to teach my kids I could not let them drive this unsafe vehicle. I fixed the car the next day.
Oh, but remember I have three children. A couple of years later my youngest child, a daughter, pulled out of our driveway and began moving forward. True, she had important things on her mind like what song was on her iPod, and that may explain the tragedy that ensued. She travelled all of sixty feet before she encountered our mail box, which, luckily, was on a brick stand. Well, she side swiped the mail box, and the brick stand won the battle, shattering the side view mirror. The most incredible thing about the whole incident was that she stopped the car, got out, and cursed the mail box as if it had attacked her for no reason. As hard as I try, it's hard not to love that.
Well, in short, the same result occured. I refused to fix the mirror until I drove the car and realized it was unsafe. How could I let my baby girl (as irresponsible as she was) drive an unsafe vehicle?
The bottom line is this: after all of these incidents (and there were many more) my kids have turned out to be wonderful people. I remember as a young parent hoping and praying that they would be okay, that they would get through the teenage years without any serious problems. We all feel the same thing; we don't want our kids to experience the problems so common today; alcohol, drugs, pregnancy, etc. I used to think that if I was a good parent nothing bad would happen to my kids. But anyone who has raised kids knows differently; there is good parenting and there is simply luck. I can control what I do, but I cannot control what they do, and I certainly cannot control luck.
For me, things have worked out wonderfully. All three of my kids have grown into mature young adults. In fact, I consider my kids to be my best friends, which just a few years ago I would have thought was impossible.
So what's the message? Well, I'm not sure that I have a specific message, except for this; you never want to let your kids rule your life, but at the same time you can never totaly rule theirs. What's the balance? Well, that's why parenting is an art and not a science. I know this; I was often concerned about my kids, so my wife and I instilled "rules" to be follwed, but the enfiorcement of the rules was very flexible, depending on who they were with, what they were doing, etc. In the end, my kids have been the most rewarding part of my life. As I see it now, I could happily give up anything that I ever experienced except for my kids; they have given me my reason for living.
Kids today are often spoiled. I do not think that is a good thing. On the other hand, our kids are our kids; first and foremost they need our love, acceptance, and our example of leadership. In many ways they become who we are. The best thing I can do for my kids is to be a good person myself. I look back now at the smashed front end and the broken side view mirror and I realize that while I wish those things had never happened, they were so trivial in the big picture of things. I love my kids. I would trade a fender or a mirror for them any day.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
The Magic of Christmas
Ahhh, it's that time of year again. Christmas! I have always believed in what many people refer to as the "Magic of Christmas". You know, when people suddenly become more tolerant and more understanding and we genuinely care for the less fortunate. Something happens at this time of year that can warm even the coldest of hearts. It's a beautiful thing.
However, in recent years, now that I have aged a bit (more than a bit, actually), I'm developing a different perspective. To some it may even seem cynical, but I see it as being realistic. Don't get me wrong; I love the fact that many people feel something special around Christmas. What is starting to bug me is, what about the other 364 days of the year? The poor are still poor, the needy are still needy, losing your temper is just as bad in January as it is in December, and on and on.
Many of us like to get involved with helping people during the Christmas season; boy scouts will spend time shoveling driveways for elderly people; many like to put together a special food basket for an unfortunate family; people often give donations to the church or a charity. Again, that's great and I would never suggest stopping any of these refreshing behaviors. But what about the elderly person's driveway in January and February? What about food for unfortunate families in other months?
It makes me wonder if we are really trying to help others or if we are simply wanting to make ourselves feel good. I certainly don't want to down play all the good that happens at Christmas, but why do we stop when December 26 rolls around? And yes, I am including myself in this scenario. Whether you're a christian celebrating the birth of Jesus or an athiest just enjoying the holidays, the recognition that there are people in need should not be limited to a few days in December.
Wouldn't it be nice if the "Christmas Spirit" was a perpetual thing? And why not? After all, there really isn't any "Magic of Christmas", but rather it's a time when many of us simply decide to be better people. Apparently it's just too difficult to be better people all year long, because it is also our own, albiet subconcious decsion not to work so hard at being good when Christmas is over.
Kudos to everyone who goes the extra mile at Christmas to do something special. I truly believe that is a wonderful thing to do. But maybe this year at least a few of us should try to make that special feeling last throughout the year. Now that would be magical!
However, in recent years, now that I have aged a bit (more than a bit, actually), I'm developing a different perspective. To some it may even seem cynical, but I see it as being realistic. Don't get me wrong; I love the fact that many people feel something special around Christmas. What is starting to bug me is, what about the other 364 days of the year? The poor are still poor, the needy are still needy, losing your temper is just as bad in January as it is in December, and on and on.
Many of us like to get involved with helping people during the Christmas season; boy scouts will spend time shoveling driveways for elderly people; many like to put together a special food basket for an unfortunate family; people often give donations to the church or a charity. Again, that's great and I would never suggest stopping any of these refreshing behaviors. But what about the elderly person's driveway in January and February? What about food for unfortunate families in other months?
It makes me wonder if we are really trying to help others or if we are simply wanting to make ourselves feel good. I certainly don't want to down play all the good that happens at Christmas, but why do we stop when December 26 rolls around? And yes, I am including myself in this scenario. Whether you're a christian celebrating the birth of Jesus or an athiest just enjoying the holidays, the recognition that there are people in need should not be limited to a few days in December.
Wouldn't it be nice if the "Christmas Spirit" was a perpetual thing? And why not? After all, there really isn't any "Magic of Christmas", but rather it's a time when many of us simply decide to be better people. Apparently it's just too difficult to be better people all year long, because it is also our own, albiet subconcious decsion not to work so hard at being good when Christmas is over.
Kudos to everyone who goes the extra mile at Christmas to do something special. I truly believe that is a wonderful thing to do. But maybe this year at least a few of us should try to make that special feeling last throughout the year. Now that would be magical!
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
I Got Screwed!
I got screwed! That's what I claim all the time, and no doubt it's what most of us feel all too often. We're trying to live our lives as well as possible, but something, or sombody, always intereferes.
Life is tough, there's no getting around that. Jobs. finances, family, religion, all of that and more. We want to be strong, to be the ones who have it all together. In truth, we struggle with virtually everything. And why? Because we have a perception, often falsely, of what we should do, of what we in fact actually do, and for some reason things just don't work out for us. Our conclusion? We got screwed!
Oh, I have spent so many years under this perspective; that I knew what to do and the rest of the world just didn't accept my way. I got screwed! That was my mantra. In time I realized what a sad way that was to go through life.
The truth is this; I do know what I want, and I do know, for the most part, what to do. The fact that so many people, even society in general, doesn't agree with me is not my concern. My goal is not to live up to an artifical standard. True, there are boundaries of ethics, legalities and morals regarding all of our lives. I get that (to a point). But the personal standards of my life are not set by society. If they are, it is only because I have allowed that to be the case.
I realized, now that I am older (believe me, there is wisdom with age) that feeling like I got screwed is not a statement about society or how other people think; it is purely a statement of how I think. No one can "screw" me. I have my thoughts and my beliefs, and I am free to feel and express them as I choose. I don't need acceptance from anyone, just like no one needs acceptance from me. I don't govern the thoughts of others. and they don't govern my thoughts.
Ah, but getting "screwed" in life is not about thoughts, it's about actions. It's about not getting what you deserve for unfair reasons. Yes, I have felt that too. I sit here today knowing I could be so much more than I am. I also know I could be so much less than I am. The fact is, I am who I am. Did I get a bad break or two? Sure. Did I get a lucky break or two? Of course. The point is, I am not who I am as a result of society; I am who I am as a result of me. That truth is both terrifying and peaceful at the same time. It's about accountability. Did someone else dictate the misfortunes in my life, or did I dictate the good fortunes?
There is only one answer to this question. We have not all been blessed with the same starting point, i.e. how we were born into this world. I don't now why that is, and neither does anyone else. But given where we started, we have substantial control of how we grow through life. It's so easy and convenient to say otherwise, but the truth is that the vast majority of good or bad fortunes in our lives result from the good or bad decisions we have made. That is the truth. For you, for me, for all of us. I so want to believe that someone else is responsible for me not being rich. I want to hold someone else accountable for anything bad that has happened to me. But I cannot escape the truth that, in the end, I live and die by my decisions; my faith, my choices, my open mindedness, my commitments. I am not a victim of life, I am the creator of life.
Quite a frightening thought. Could I possibly be accountable for my misfortunes? I want to say no, but I see opportunities in life that I have not siezed. The better question is, can I take control of my life? For most of us the answer is yes. Sure, there are sadly some out there who truly are victims, and that is undescribably sad. But most of us, the vast majority, are not victims. We simply are more comfortable in the role of a victim. That is insulting to both ourselves and the true victims of this world.
Life is tough, there's no getting around that. Jobs. finances, family, religion, all of that and more. We want to be strong, to be the ones who have it all together. In truth, we struggle with virtually everything. And why? Because we have a perception, often falsely, of what we should do, of what we in fact actually do, and for some reason things just don't work out for us. Our conclusion? We got screwed!
Oh, I have spent so many years under this perspective; that I knew what to do and the rest of the world just didn't accept my way. I got screwed! That was my mantra. In time I realized what a sad way that was to go through life.
The truth is this; I do know what I want, and I do know, for the most part, what to do. The fact that so many people, even society in general, doesn't agree with me is not my concern. My goal is not to live up to an artifical standard. True, there are boundaries of ethics, legalities and morals regarding all of our lives. I get that (to a point). But the personal standards of my life are not set by society. If they are, it is only because I have allowed that to be the case.
I realized, now that I am older (believe me, there is wisdom with age) that feeling like I got screwed is not a statement about society or how other people think; it is purely a statement of how I think. No one can "screw" me. I have my thoughts and my beliefs, and I am free to feel and express them as I choose. I don't need acceptance from anyone, just like no one needs acceptance from me. I don't govern the thoughts of others. and they don't govern my thoughts.
Ah, but getting "screwed" in life is not about thoughts, it's about actions. It's about not getting what you deserve for unfair reasons. Yes, I have felt that too. I sit here today knowing I could be so much more than I am. I also know I could be so much less than I am. The fact is, I am who I am. Did I get a bad break or two? Sure. Did I get a lucky break or two? Of course. The point is, I am not who I am as a result of society; I am who I am as a result of me. That truth is both terrifying and peaceful at the same time. It's about accountability. Did someone else dictate the misfortunes in my life, or did I dictate the good fortunes?
There is only one answer to this question. We have not all been blessed with the same starting point, i.e. how we were born into this world. I don't now why that is, and neither does anyone else. But given where we started, we have substantial control of how we grow through life. It's so easy and convenient to say otherwise, but the truth is that the vast majority of good or bad fortunes in our lives result from the good or bad decisions we have made. That is the truth. For you, for me, for all of us. I so want to believe that someone else is responsible for me not being rich. I want to hold someone else accountable for anything bad that has happened to me. But I cannot escape the truth that, in the end, I live and die by my decisions; my faith, my choices, my open mindedness, my commitments. I am not a victim of life, I am the creator of life.
Quite a frightening thought. Could I possibly be accountable for my misfortunes? I want to say no, but I see opportunities in life that I have not siezed. The better question is, can I take control of my life? For most of us the answer is yes. Sure, there are sadly some out there who truly are victims, and that is undescribably sad. But most of us, the vast majority, are not victims. We simply are more comfortable in the role of a victim. That is insulting to both ourselves and the true victims of this world.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Better Than Steven Wright
Okay, so my last blog, which was called Humor, was a bit satirical. Now it's time for some real humor. This is what I call "Better than Steven Wright". Do you know who Steven Wright is? If not, don't read on because this won't make much sense. However, as a reminder for those of you who might know of him, he is famous for a very dry sense of humor illustrated by one-liners like "I live at the end of a one way street. Once I get home, I can never leave." If you find that funny, than hopefully you will appreciate my "Better than Steven Wright" one-liners. And Mr. Wright, if you read this, my apologies in advance.
Better than Steven Wright:
Better than Steven Wright:
- Yesterday I dreamed about tomorrow. Today seems like a memory.
- A man told me I look like my father. My father's dead.
- I was there when a tree fell in the forest. Now I know.
- I don't understand why the world is always at war. Can't we just kill the people who don't believe in peace?
- I was told that I should "see the world". I looked down.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Humor
A dear friend of mine suggested that I should "lighten up" and stop talking about depressing things like death all the time. Well, first of all, for those of you who read my previous blogs, I was not writing about death, but rather the celebration of life. And yes, there is nothing like recognizing our mortality to appreciate life all the more. That said, I agree it's time to lighten up. I want to talk about something funny.
Hmmmmm. What's funny? In today's world there just doesn't seem to be the humor there used to be. I know! I'll make something up, something so bizarre that it can’t help be funny. How about this? Let’s say there is a person who is a governor of a northern state. Let’s call her Sandy, just to give her a name. Sandy Painintheass. Now let’s say this person, with virtually no national recognition, is asked to be a vice presidential candidate. Already you can see the humor in this. Of course there is no reason why such a person would get this opportunity, so let’s go one step further and say she’s hot. In our society, that’s enough credentials for pretty much anything. Ha. That’s funny.
Now let’s say Ms. Painintheass does what would be predicted and makes a fool of herself in the campaign. Well, it’s so predictable that it really isn’t funny, so to add a humorous twist, let’s say she finally returns to her home state, defeated, and then…..resigns for no reason! Now that’s funny.
Just to get a little silly, let’s go on and say this person, Sandy P., decides to run for president. OMG, that is hysterical. But wait; let’s say, in the spirit of humor, THAT SHE WINS! HA! That is a gut buster. I know I’m in stitches. Of course this could never happen, unless we live in a society that values hot women over skilled leaders. Yeah, I know, we don't have any of those either so it's kind of a moot point.
That was fun. Let’s think about more funny stuff. Let’s suppose there was a man many years ago that was a truly righteous man. Let’s suppose further that this man, we’ll call him Andy, actually became the father of a great religion. Well, that’s not funny. In fact, that’s kind of cool. So what if Andy, in time, actually became the father of a second great religion? Not likely, of course, but still not funny. Just to push this to the point of absurdity, let’s suppose Andy actually became the father of a third great religion. I know, I know, it could never happen. But if it did, it would be really cool because all of these religions would believe in a single supreme being, they would all believe in a peaceful earth, and they would all believe in loving all human beings.
Well, this would be so cool that there is just nothing to laugh at. So just for fun, let’s say these three great religions spent centuries killing each other in the name of world peace. HA! Now we’re getting some humor. Can you imagine anything so utterly silly? Of course this is not realistic, unless we live in a society that allows a person to rule the whole free world simply because she’s hot. Oh, now we’re having fun.
Okay, one more just for the road. Remember when you were young, I mean very young, and learned how to bounce a rubber ball on the playground. That was fun. Some, of course, became better at bouncing that ball than others. So in the spirit of continuing our joviality, let’s say two such children grew up and started families. One, who labored hard each day, was told he was no longer needed and he and his family were driven from their home. Well, that’s not funny, that’s sad. Where the humor comes in is that we’ll pretend the other person, the one who learned how to bounce the ball really well, actually gets tens of millions of dollars for bouncing that ball and lives in a mansion only a few miles from where the first person had to vacate his home. Who can’t see the humor in that? If that doesn’t bust your gut, nothing will!
Ooooohhh, this has been fun. Humor is truly the best medicine.
Hmmmmm. What's funny? In today's world there just doesn't seem to be the humor there used to be. I know! I'll make something up, something so bizarre that it can’t help be funny. How about this? Let’s say there is a person who is a governor of a northern state. Let’s call her Sandy, just to give her a name. Sandy Painintheass. Now let’s say this person, with virtually no national recognition, is asked to be a vice presidential candidate. Already you can see the humor in this. Of course there is no reason why such a person would get this opportunity, so let’s go one step further and say she’s hot. In our society, that’s enough credentials for pretty much anything. Ha. That’s funny.
Now let’s say Ms. Painintheass does what would be predicted and makes a fool of herself in the campaign. Well, it’s so predictable that it really isn’t funny, so to add a humorous twist, let’s say she finally returns to her home state, defeated, and then…..resigns for no reason! Now that’s funny.
Just to get a little silly, let’s go on and say this person, Sandy P., decides to run for president. OMG, that is hysterical. But wait; let’s say, in the spirit of humor, THAT SHE WINS! HA! That is a gut buster. I know I’m in stitches. Of course this could never happen, unless we live in a society that values hot women over skilled leaders. Yeah, I know, we don't have any of those either so it's kind of a moot point.
That was fun. Let’s think about more funny stuff. Let’s suppose there was a man many years ago that was a truly righteous man. Let’s suppose further that this man, we’ll call him Andy, actually became the father of a great religion. Well, that’s not funny. In fact, that’s kind of cool. So what if Andy, in time, actually became the father of a second great religion? Not likely, of course, but still not funny. Just to push this to the point of absurdity, let’s suppose Andy actually became the father of a third great religion. I know, I know, it could never happen. But if it did, it would be really cool because all of these religions would believe in a single supreme being, they would all believe in a peaceful earth, and they would all believe in loving all human beings.
Well, this would be so cool that there is just nothing to laugh at. So just for fun, let’s say these three great religions spent centuries killing each other in the name of world peace. HA! Now we’re getting some humor. Can you imagine anything so utterly silly? Of course this is not realistic, unless we live in a society that allows a person to rule the whole free world simply because she’s hot. Oh, now we’re having fun.
Okay, one more just for the road. Remember when you were young, I mean very young, and learned how to bounce a rubber ball on the playground. That was fun. Some, of course, became better at bouncing that ball than others. So in the spirit of continuing our joviality, let’s say two such children grew up and started families. One, who labored hard each day, was told he was no longer needed and he and his family were driven from their home. Well, that’s not funny, that’s sad. Where the humor comes in is that we’ll pretend the other person, the one who learned how to bounce the ball really well, actually gets tens of millions of dollars for bouncing that ball and lives in a mansion only a few miles from where the first person had to vacate his home. Who can’t see the humor in that? If that doesn’t bust your gut, nothing will!
Ooooohhh, this has been fun. Humor is truly the best medicine.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Aging
Not long ago I was sitting with some of my friend and our kids. Keep in mind that our kids are all in their twenties and thirties. One young lady made some innocent yet mildly derogatory comment about "old" people. She immediately looked at me, turn a little red, and apologized for the remark.
My first thought was, why apologize to me? I'm 55, but far from the oldest person in the room. I didn't get it. But my thoughts then turned to a number of other people.
I remember in eigth grade I sat in front of a guy named Don and behind a girl named Karen. We used to whisper and acrew around and always got into trouble. We ended up becoming great friends. They both died of cancer at age 22.
My son went to school with a great kid named Eric. He was full of life and energy and brought a sense of joy with him where ever he went. He died of cancer at age 18.
There are so many others; young people who were swept away far too prematurely. Some by disease, some by accidents, and of course there are those brave young people in the military who are taken by war.
I sat listening to the young lady speaking, and I thought how lucky I was to be 55. For some reason I was fortunate enough to get through life, at least so far. I married a wonderful woman and raised three fantastic children. Why I was allowed this life and others had their lives snuffed out so early I'll never know. What I do know is that age is not a bad thing. In fact, being given the opportunity to grow and experience all the wonderful things life has to offer is a blessing and a privilage.
I know the young lady who made the comment did so innocently, but nevertheless it illustrated our society's view of growing old. It is seen as a bad, even a terrible thing. I looked at the young woman and said, "You know what? I clearly remember being your age, but you can only hope and pray you get to be my age."
For every young person out there who had the blessing of life snatched away too early, I gladly accept the wows of age. Aging is not to be dreaded, it is not a curse. It is perhaps the great blessing we can receive.
My first thought was, why apologize to me? I'm 55, but far from the oldest person in the room. I didn't get it. But my thoughts then turned to a number of other people.
I remember in eigth grade I sat in front of a guy named Don and behind a girl named Karen. We used to whisper and acrew around and always got into trouble. We ended up becoming great friends. They both died of cancer at age 22.
My son went to school with a great kid named Eric. He was full of life and energy and brought a sense of joy with him where ever he went. He died of cancer at age 18.
There are so many others; young people who were swept away far too prematurely. Some by disease, some by accidents, and of course there are those brave young people in the military who are taken by war.
I sat listening to the young lady speaking, and I thought how lucky I was to be 55. For some reason I was fortunate enough to get through life, at least so far. I married a wonderful woman and raised three fantastic children. Why I was allowed this life and others had their lives snuffed out so early I'll never know. What I do know is that age is not a bad thing. In fact, being given the opportunity to grow and experience all the wonderful things life has to offer is a blessing and a privilage.
I know the young lady who made the comment did so innocently, but nevertheless it illustrated our society's view of growing old. It is seen as a bad, even a terrible thing. I looked at the young woman and said, "You know what? I clearly remember being your age, but you can only hope and pray you get to be my age."
For every young person out there who had the blessing of life snatched away too early, I gladly accept the wows of age. Aging is not to be dreaded, it is not a curse. It is perhaps the great blessing we can receive.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Today
Today I discovered I am going to die. Just like that. I guess I am mortal after all.
It’s funny in a way. The first thing I thought of was all the times as a child, as a teen, and even as an adult that I discussed with friends and family what we would do if we knew we were going to die. Would we take that trip we’ve been planning forever? Would we do something wild and crazy to go out with a bang? Or would we take the time to appreciate the little things? That is what I always said I would do. Hug my children much more often. Tell my wife I love her every day, in fact many times each day. Get up early and watch the sunrise, and sit with my family to relish the moment. That’s what I would do if I knew I was going to die.
But of course that was all moot, because I knew I was not going to die. So instead, I worked the extra hours, worried about money, made sure my house and car were at least as good as all of my friends. I always knew these were not the most important things in life, but I had to deal with reality. I had to provide for my family.
What about looking after the needs of others less fortunate than myself, or going to church more than once or twice a month? What about the underprivileged people I always thought I should help but couldn’t because “I had responsibilities”? If I knew I was going to die, I would have done more for them.
Well, I found out today that I am going to die. What do I do now? It’s no longer a game to play, but now I must face the facts. Now my reality is dealing with my mortality, and all the important things I will never be able to do.
I want to hug my children every day, every hour, every minute. I want to tell my wife I love her with the passion I felt when I was young. I want to grasp onto and cherish the simple things that I always knew were the most important things in life. I don’t want to go out feeling that I wasted my most precious gift.
Today I discovered I am going to die. The good news is that, barring a horrible tragedy, I should last another forty or fifty years, or maybe more. You see, there is nothing wrong with me. I am in perfect health. But today I discovered, or more accurately I realized for the first time, that I am in fact going to die. Whether it’s in forty minutes or forty years doesn’t really matter, the significance is the same. I want to hug my children, tell my wife I love her. I want to help those in need. I want to be the kind of person that I have been putting off my entire life for a more “appropriate time”.
I am going to die, and so is my wife, and so are all my children, and so is everyone that I know. But not today. Thank God, not today.
Today I still have time. Today is still mine, to do all the things I always thought that I should do. Today I still have a choice.
Thank God that today I realized I was going to die, so that when I do, I can leave this world in peace, knowing that I made the most of my special gift. I did hug my children, I did tell my wife I love her, I did help those in need.
When will I actually die? Of course I do not know, and now, finally, I do not care, because today I had a special day with my family, and tomorrow I will again.
Today I have a choice, and now, finally, I know that I will make the right choice.
It’s funny in a way. The first thing I thought of was all the times as a child, as a teen, and even as an adult that I discussed with friends and family what we would do if we knew we were going to die. Would we take that trip we’ve been planning forever? Would we do something wild and crazy to go out with a bang? Or would we take the time to appreciate the little things? That is what I always said I would do. Hug my children much more often. Tell my wife I love her every day, in fact many times each day. Get up early and watch the sunrise, and sit with my family to relish the moment. That’s what I would do if I knew I was going to die.
But of course that was all moot, because I knew I was not going to die. So instead, I worked the extra hours, worried about money, made sure my house and car were at least as good as all of my friends. I always knew these were not the most important things in life, but I had to deal with reality. I had to provide for my family.
What about looking after the needs of others less fortunate than myself, or going to church more than once or twice a month? What about the underprivileged people I always thought I should help but couldn’t because “I had responsibilities”? If I knew I was going to die, I would have done more for them.
Well, I found out today that I am going to die. What do I do now? It’s no longer a game to play, but now I must face the facts. Now my reality is dealing with my mortality, and all the important things I will never be able to do.
I want to hug my children every day, every hour, every minute. I want to tell my wife I love her with the passion I felt when I was young. I want to grasp onto and cherish the simple things that I always knew were the most important things in life. I don’t want to go out feeling that I wasted my most precious gift.
Today I discovered I am going to die. The good news is that, barring a horrible tragedy, I should last another forty or fifty years, or maybe more. You see, there is nothing wrong with me. I am in perfect health. But today I discovered, or more accurately I realized for the first time, that I am in fact going to die. Whether it’s in forty minutes or forty years doesn’t really matter, the significance is the same. I want to hug my children, tell my wife I love her. I want to help those in need. I want to be the kind of person that I have been putting off my entire life for a more “appropriate time”.
I am going to die, and so is my wife, and so are all my children, and so is everyone that I know. But not today. Thank God, not today.
Today I still have time. Today is still mine, to do all the things I always thought that I should do. Today I still have a choice.
Thank God that today I realized I was going to die, so that when I do, I can leave this world in peace, knowing that I made the most of my special gift. I did hug my children, I did tell my wife I love her, I did help those in need.
When will I actually die? Of course I do not know, and now, finally, I do not care, because today I had a special day with my family, and tomorrow I will again.
Today I have a choice, and now, finally, I know that I will make the right choice.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Friends
Okay, this is a tough subect, even though on the surface it seems pretty straightforword. Friends can have a unique place in our lives, but sometimes not a good place. However, the right friend can have a very special place, something that is irreplacecable. The irony is that we don't always know the difference; when is a friend special, and when is a friend a liability?
Oh, I know, friends are those special people that make our lives meaningful. In spirit I agree with that, but not always in practice, for sometimes a "friend" is a sheep in wolf's clothing. So how should we value our friends?
Let's start with a very important point. I believe strongly that family has a very special relationship. Family is that tie to other people who supercede any form of emotion. My brother is my brother, my mother is my mother, no matter how I feel. There is something extremely special about family. I love my family.
Friends are different, and in some cases, friends can make you vulnerable. But in many cases they can make you strong. A friend is completely inverse to family; family is who family is; no choice, no decision, no selection. It's what makes them special and unique. Conversely, a friend is who you select; someone you choose as special, someone whose company you enjoy for no definable reason. A person who allows you to be who you are.
Family is extremely important to all of us, like it or not. But friends are equally important to us in different ways. I have been blessed in my life with a good and strong family. But, unfiortunately, that isn't always enough for me to talk through all my dilemas, to work through all my worries and problems. Family is special, very special. But I know people who are simply "friends" that have a huge influence on my life. They may have their own lives, live in other states, and not even directly interact with my life, but they are still an extremely important part of who I am or what I will become.
My friends, my true friends, are not just a group of people I happen to know, they are absolutely a part of me. They define who I am. I love my friends, and I miss my friends that I cannot see on a regular basis. If my friends are true, I am a lesser man for not being with them more.
Oh, I know, friends are those special people that make our lives meaningful. In spirit I agree with that, but not always in practice, for sometimes a "friend" is a sheep in wolf's clothing. So how should we value our friends?
Let's start with a very important point. I believe strongly that family has a very special relationship. Family is that tie to other people who supercede any form of emotion. My brother is my brother, my mother is my mother, no matter how I feel. There is something extremely special about family. I love my family.
Friends are different, and in some cases, friends can make you vulnerable. But in many cases they can make you strong. A friend is completely inverse to family; family is who family is; no choice, no decision, no selection. It's what makes them special and unique. Conversely, a friend is who you select; someone you choose as special, someone whose company you enjoy for no definable reason. A person who allows you to be who you are.
Family is extremely important to all of us, like it or not. But friends are equally important to us in different ways. I have been blessed in my life with a good and strong family. But, unfiortunately, that isn't always enough for me to talk through all my dilemas, to work through all my worries and problems. Family is special, very special. But I know people who are simply "friends" that have a huge influence on my life. They may have their own lives, live in other states, and not even directly interact with my life, but they are still an extremely important part of who I am or what I will become.
My friends, my true friends, are not just a group of people I happen to know, they are absolutely a part of me. They define who I am. I love my friends, and I miss my friends that I cannot see on a regular basis. If my friends are true, I am a lesser man for not being with them more.
Friday, September 10, 2010
I Ache, and I'm So Thankful
I must confess that I am older now. And as is normal with age, my body experiences all kinds of aches and pains I never thought possible. To some, this could be quite depressing.
I sit in a comfortable chair on my little patio and let my old body relax. My children, now all grown, don't think I can remember when I was their age. But they are wrong, as all middle aged and older people know. I remember quite well feeling painless and strong. I must admit part of me misses those days.
As I rest in my chair, I become aware of each ache in my muscles and my joints, and I know just where each one came from. My sore knee that always acts up in cool weather was the result of a spectacular fall on the ski slopes at Lutsen Minnesota when I was vacationing with my family. There was some pain, but it was a great trip. Then there is my throbbing ankle, which came from playing soccer when I was in the navy. I still keep in touch with my friends from back then. A great bunch of guys from a great time in my life. And of course my back, my pour aching, throbbing back. It was victimized by years of carrying young kids, sometimes much too big to be carried. I remember more than once when I carried all three of them at the same time. And I'll never forget our visit to Washington, D. C. on a very hot summer day when I had to (or chose to) take turns carrying my children on my shoulders as we toured the monuments, knowing they were too young to remember any of them.
Yes, my body is now full of aches, but I love each and everyone of them. They are not something to dread; they are in fact a badge of honor. I sit here, with my aches and pains, and revisit so many wonderful episodes in my life. God certainly knew what he was doing when he created the human body. I like my aches. They're somewhat like a picture album in my mind. I wouldn't want it any other way.
Yes, I ache, but I am so thankful for that.
I sit in a comfortable chair on my little patio and let my old body relax. My children, now all grown, don't think I can remember when I was their age. But they are wrong, as all middle aged and older people know. I remember quite well feeling painless and strong. I must admit part of me misses those days.
As I rest in my chair, I become aware of each ache in my muscles and my joints, and I know just where each one came from. My sore knee that always acts up in cool weather was the result of a spectacular fall on the ski slopes at Lutsen Minnesota when I was vacationing with my family. There was some pain, but it was a great trip. Then there is my throbbing ankle, which came from playing soccer when I was in the navy. I still keep in touch with my friends from back then. A great bunch of guys from a great time in my life. And of course my back, my pour aching, throbbing back. It was victimized by years of carrying young kids, sometimes much too big to be carried. I remember more than once when I carried all three of them at the same time. And I'll never forget our visit to Washington, D. C. on a very hot summer day when I had to (or chose to) take turns carrying my children on my shoulders as we toured the monuments, knowing they were too young to remember any of them.
Yes, my body is now full of aches, but I love each and everyone of them. They are not something to dread; they are in fact a badge of honor. I sit here, with my aches and pains, and revisit so many wonderful episodes in my life. God certainly knew what he was doing when he created the human body. I like my aches. They're somewhat like a picture album in my mind. I wouldn't want it any other way.
Yes, I ache, but I am so thankful for that.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Just Thinking
There is no particular message to this blog; I am simply sitting idle at my computor and thinking. Of course, sitting idle and thinking has become a lost art. In the fast paced corporate world of get everything done now, we often don't take the time to just think. What a waste.
I see the picture above my desk that my youngest daughter drew a few years ago. She is very talented and the picture is quite good. However, just looking at it loses so much of it's significance. Taking the time to actually think about it allows me to relive the memory of when she first drew it, how excited both her mother and I were at realizing her talent, and the joy I experienced when she later gave it to me as a Father's Day present. This one picture represents many things that would be lost if I didn't spend the time thinking about it.
Or take the pictures that my other two children put on Facebook. Quickly scrolling through them is fun in it's own way, just to see the types of things they like to do. But taking the time to go through them slowly allows me to actually relive some of the experiences. Smoking cigars at the lake with my son, playing cards with my daughter and son-in-law, seeing the excitement in everyone's eyes when my son pull in his trophy sized bass. More than just remembering these things, I can actually feel them.
Then, of course, there are my own introspective thoughts. How has my life evolved through the years? Am I doing the things I always thought I should be? Where am I in my spiritual life? How good of a husband am I?
I have never been one to have self doubts, at least no more than anyone else, but I have always felt that taking time to reflect on my life has given me new focus and a stronger sense of purpose to what I am doing. I like that. I need that. I am a better person because of that.
Yes, time is important, and wasting time is never good, but never feel that spending valuable time with yourselve is a waste. Who better to spend your time with than you?
I see the picture above my desk that my youngest daughter drew a few years ago. She is very talented and the picture is quite good. However, just looking at it loses so much of it's significance. Taking the time to actually think about it allows me to relive the memory of when she first drew it, how excited both her mother and I were at realizing her talent, and the joy I experienced when she later gave it to me as a Father's Day present. This one picture represents many things that would be lost if I didn't spend the time thinking about it.
Or take the pictures that my other two children put on Facebook. Quickly scrolling through them is fun in it's own way, just to see the types of things they like to do. But taking the time to go through them slowly allows me to actually relive some of the experiences. Smoking cigars at the lake with my son, playing cards with my daughter and son-in-law, seeing the excitement in everyone's eyes when my son pull in his trophy sized bass. More than just remembering these things, I can actually feel them.
Then, of course, there are my own introspective thoughts. How has my life evolved through the years? Am I doing the things I always thought I should be? Where am I in my spiritual life? How good of a husband am I?
I have never been one to have self doubts, at least no more than anyone else, but I have always felt that taking time to reflect on my life has given me new focus and a stronger sense of purpose to what I am doing. I like that. I need that. I am a better person because of that.
Yes, time is important, and wasting time is never good, but never feel that spending valuable time with yourselve is a waste. Who better to spend your time with than you?
Monday, August 9, 2010
Precious Metal
Oh, the struggles of being a parent. We want so much to be good parents for our kids, and we want to do everything within our power to make them into the best people that they can be.
Well, therein lies the problem; what is actually within our power?
Oh, I've been there. I thought that I would be one of those great parents who would make my children into something special. It wasn't for many years that I realized how foolish I was being. And how unfair.
Why foolish? Because there are so many things that determine what a child will become, most notably the child itself, and to think we alone control their future is very presumptuous. Why unfair? Because the sacrifices we make for our children, while admirable, cause us to inadvertently take credit for what they do on their own. Of course the role of a parent is important, but we do not make our children into anything. If we're religious we believe God has the major role in that area. If we're not, than largely it is the children themselves that determine what they will become. So then, what is the role of a parent?
Years ago I worked with a beautiful Persian woman who taught me a lesson she learned from her grandfather. He equated children to precious metals. We, as parents, all want our children to be the best metal. We want them to be gold (it would probably be platinum today). The foolish parent thinks our job is just that; to make our children into the best precious metal possible. However, we are not able to make children, or precious metals for that matter. That is not our job. For whatever reason, fair or unfair, our children are born into this world with certain characteristics, as a specific "metal" of sorts. What the old grandfather taught my friend, who then taught to me, is that our job as a parent is not to make our children into a different kind of metal, it is to take them, as they are, and to polish them so that they shine their brightest.
That resonated very well with me, and oddly took away much of the selfishness I felt (albiet unknowingly) as a parent. Why can't my daughter do something as good as a neighbor girl? Why can't my son ride a bike as soon as the other boys? (For the record, my son was the first one his age to ride a bike. Why? I was a better father, of course.). The point is, I conciously knew that I could not make my children into something they weren't, but subconciously it bothered me that I somehow was not as good as other fathers. Then I finally realize that, while I could make all the difference in the world to my children, I just couldn't make them into what they weren't. In truth, I never wanted them to be any different. It wasn't their success I had been worried about, it was my own. When I was able to release that selfhish baggage, I was free to polish my children (figuratively of course) until they absolutely glowed.
That simple lesson, "A parent's job is not to make your children into a better metal, it is to polish them so that they shine their brightest", had an amazing impact on how I viewed parenthood, and my children for that matter. I think some of the parents involved with youth sports could learn quite a lot from this simple lesson.
Well, therein lies the problem; what is actually within our power?
Oh, I've been there. I thought that I would be one of those great parents who would make my children into something special. It wasn't for many years that I realized how foolish I was being. And how unfair.
Why foolish? Because there are so many things that determine what a child will become, most notably the child itself, and to think we alone control their future is very presumptuous. Why unfair? Because the sacrifices we make for our children, while admirable, cause us to inadvertently take credit for what they do on their own. Of course the role of a parent is important, but we do not make our children into anything. If we're religious we believe God has the major role in that area. If we're not, than largely it is the children themselves that determine what they will become. So then, what is the role of a parent?
Years ago I worked with a beautiful Persian woman who taught me a lesson she learned from her grandfather. He equated children to precious metals. We, as parents, all want our children to be the best metal. We want them to be gold (it would probably be platinum today). The foolish parent thinks our job is just that; to make our children into the best precious metal possible. However, we are not able to make children, or precious metals for that matter. That is not our job. For whatever reason, fair or unfair, our children are born into this world with certain characteristics, as a specific "metal" of sorts. What the old grandfather taught my friend, who then taught to me, is that our job as a parent is not to make our children into a different kind of metal, it is to take them, as they are, and to polish them so that they shine their brightest.
That resonated very well with me, and oddly took away much of the selfishness I felt (albiet unknowingly) as a parent. Why can't my daughter do something as good as a neighbor girl? Why can't my son ride a bike as soon as the other boys? (For the record, my son was the first one his age to ride a bike. Why? I was a better father, of course.). The point is, I conciously knew that I could not make my children into something they weren't, but subconciously it bothered me that I somehow was not as good as other fathers. Then I finally realize that, while I could make all the difference in the world to my children, I just couldn't make them into what they weren't. In truth, I never wanted them to be any different. It wasn't their success I had been worried about, it was my own. When I was able to release that selfhish baggage, I was free to polish my children (figuratively of course) until they absolutely glowed.
That simple lesson, "A parent's job is not to make your children into a better metal, it is to polish them so that they shine their brightest", had an amazing impact on how I viewed parenthood, and my children for that matter. I think some of the parents involved with youth sports could learn quite a lot from this simple lesson.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Here Today
Here's something for the true philosophical thinkers. A couple people may have already seen this.
Do not be fooled. Today is not the first day of the rest of your life. It cannot be, for in today’s perspective, there is no “rest of your life”. However, yesterday was truly the last day of the first part of your life.
It is now gone.
It is now dead.
There is no future, for the future has no existence.
There is no experience of tomorrow, because at this moment tomorrow has no reality.
When tomorrow comes, when it has experience, when it has reality, it will no longer be tomorrow, but today. It will no longer be your future, but your present.
When tomorrow passes, it becomes your past. It is then gone. It is then dead.
All you are, all you have ever been, is wrapped up into today.
Happiness.
Sorrow.
Joy.
Fear.
Everything.
You are you, here today.
There is no yesterday, for that is dead.
There is no tomorrow, for that has no reality.
There is you, here today.
Whether you like who you are or you do not; whether you are happy or you are not;
There is no one, or no time, to hold accountable.
There is no one, or no time, to blame.
There is you, here today.
Release the baggage. Release yesterday.
Do not wait for tomorrow.
Be you, here today.
Be happy.
Do not be fooled. Today is not the first day of the rest of your life. It cannot be, for in today’s perspective, there is no “rest of your life”. However, yesterday was truly the last day of the first part of your life.
It is now gone.
It is now dead.
There is no future, for the future has no existence.
There is no experience of tomorrow, because at this moment tomorrow has no reality.
When tomorrow comes, when it has experience, when it has reality, it will no longer be tomorrow, but today. It will no longer be your future, but your present.
When tomorrow passes, it becomes your past. It is then gone. It is then dead.
All you are, all you have ever been, is wrapped up into today.
Happiness.
Sorrow.
Joy.
Fear.
Everything.
You are you, here today.
There is no yesterday, for that is dead.
There is no tomorrow, for that has no reality.
There is you, here today.
Whether you like who you are or you do not; whether you are happy or you are not;
There is no one, or no time, to hold accountable.
There is no one, or no time, to blame.
There is you, here today.
Release the baggage. Release yesterday.
Do not wait for tomorrow.
Be you, here today.
Be happy.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
The Good Old Days
Do you ever find yourself missing "the good old days"? I know I do, all the time. But do you ever wonder what made them so good, or why we miss them?
My parents always used to talk about the good old days, and they grew up in the 1930's and 1940's; not such a pleasant time. I miss the good old days, and I grew up in the 1960's and 1970's. We had issues like Vietnam, Watergate, assasinations, drugs, etc. Not good stuff at all (debatable point about the drugs). One hundered years ago there were people who missed the good old days, and for them that was about 120 years ago.
The "good old days" were a time when things were simpler. Life wasn't so fast paced and people treated each other with more respect. Hmmm, that would seem to rule out pretty much anytime I can recall. With racism and gender issues, we couldn't be referring to the 60's and 70's. World War II sucked, as did World War I and any other war in the history of the world. The Great Depression couldn't have been too fun. So when were there actually any "good old days"?
In truth, there were good old days, for all of us, no matter when we lived. You see, the "good old days" in no way refers to a physical time or place, not to an actual event or era, in fact not to an actual anything. The "good old days" represents innocence, and at some point, being human, we all were at an age where we experienced that innocence. Unfortunately, we all reached an age when reality set in and we reallized innocence was only a facade. Yet our minds still retain memories from those days, whenever they were. Our fathers were the strongest men in the neighborhood, our mothers the most loving and beautiful women, and our homes the warmest and most comfortable. There was a time, in our minds, when life was grand. The "good old days" did exist, but only in our minds. However, that doesn't make them any less good, or any less real for that matter.
This is why we can never return to the good old days, and why young children today are experiencing the good old days as we speak even though us old people feel those days are gone forever. For us, of course, they are.
There was a time when life was simpler and sweeter, when people loved each other more, when we were safer. That wasn't the 70's, 60's, 30's or any other time; it was when we were too young to know the realities of the world. And yes, those days were very good, and, unfortunately, very old.
But they are here for our youth, and it is a gift we old people must never stop giving to our youth. The good old days are here right now for them, and those days are very real to them, but only if we, the adults, make them real. You see, even for us, the good old days aren't really gone, they've just been transferred to a new generation. They are here, and they are real. The youth will enjoy them without fully grasping the significance of what they are. Maybe, just maybe, if we do our part to help them, we can cling to at least a small portion of the "good old days" and carry them with us forever.
My parents always used to talk about the good old days, and they grew up in the 1930's and 1940's; not such a pleasant time. I miss the good old days, and I grew up in the 1960's and 1970's. We had issues like Vietnam, Watergate, assasinations, drugs, etc. Not good stuff at all (debatable point about the drugs). One hundered years ago there were people who missed the good old days, and for them that was about 120 years ago.
The "good old days" were a time when things were simpler. Life wasn't so fast paced and people treated each other with more respect. Hmmm, that would seem to rule out pretty much anytime I can recall. With racism and gender issues, we couldn't be referring to the 60's and 70's. World War II sucked, as did World War I and any other war in the history of the world. The Great Depression couldn't have been too fun. So when were there actually any "good old days"?
In truth, there were good old days, for all of us, no matter when we lived. You see, the "good old days" in no way refers to a physical time or place, not to an actual event or era, in fact not to an actual anything. The "good old days" represents innocence, and at some point, being human, we all were at an age where we experienced that innocence. Unfortunately, we all reached an age when reality set in and we reallized innocence was only a facade. Yet our minds still retain memories from those days, whenever they were. Our fathers were the strongest men in the neighborhood, our mothers the most loving and beautiful women, and our homes the warmest and most comfortable. There was a time, in our minds, when life was grand. The "good old days" did exist, but only in our minds. However, that doesn't make them any less good, or any less real for that matter.
This is why we can never return to the good old days, and why young children today are experiencing the good old days as we speak even though us old people feel those days are gone forever. For us, of course, they are.
There was a time when life was simpler and sweeter, when people loved each other more, when we were safer. That wasn't the 70's, 60's, 30's or any other time; it was when we were too young to know the realities of the world. And yes, those days were very good, and, unfortunately, very old.
But they are here for our youth, and it is a gift we old people must never stop giving to our youth. The good old days are here right now for them, and those days are very real to them, but only if we, the adults, make them real. You see, even for us, the good old days aren't really gone, they've just been transferred to a new generation. They are here, and they are real. The youth will enjoy them without fully grasping the significance of what they are. Maybe, just maybe, if we do our part to help them, we can cling to at least a small portion of the "good old days" and carry them with us forever.
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