Skip to main content

Wish I may, Wish I might

We old folk at some point start thinking of how much time we have left. Some of us think about it a lot and others not so much, but we do think about it.

Having looked at life, I would have to say I lived it both rationally and often irrationally. I would categorize my taking the motorcycle safety courses at the age of 68 as one of those irrational moments.

It was only when I was satisfied with the options I had left, I calmed down a little. I recognized there are some things older folks have in common during this period. Those of us who are healthy want to be relevant. By that I mean, we want to be doing something useful. We want to be doing something that if we couldn't do it anymore, they would have to get someone else to do it.

In reflecting back on my life, I have to say that I have a restless spirit. Endlessly curious, I have done a lot of things, but none of them particularly good. I was what we used to call a jack of all trades, a master of none.

I drag raced my friend Doug's car. It was because he said I was lighter and it might help. I won a couple of races, lost more, but it was fun. 

I took flying lessons from a guy in Tomah in exchange for helping him restore an old plane. I loved flying, but I never soloed or got my license. I was promoted to area sales and didn't have time anymore.

Some friends of mine helped me build a stock car that I raced a few times. But life got in the way of that project and I gracelessly stepped out of the scene.

I learned to play golf out of a book. I was told many times I had a beautiful swing, but my scorecard never looked particularly beautiful. It is one of the things that I have persisted in. Even now, when I can't hardly hit the ball more than one hundred and eighty yards with my best swings, I play. After more than sixty years of being on a golf course can analyze another players swing and help them, even though I could never help myself.

The other thing I  have done for the better chunk of my life is photography. I got my first little brownie in the sixth grade. to this day I'm a little uncomfortable when I'm too far away from my point and shoot 

I've written all most as long as I've been snapping images. Most of what I've written is fiction, that I can't get anybody to read it. This probably tells you how good it is. 

Writing is a blessing and a curse. When you do it, it is almost like a self-guided physiology session. It teaches you logic thought, empathy and, well if you write fiction anyway, how to kill somebody and not get caught

They say you haven't mastered a foreign language until you think in that language. When I see something written in Spanish my mind is looking up the first word, then the second and so on. I can still remember some of the vocabulary. I asked two ladies for directions when I was in Madrid. My pronunciation must have been good they thought I was much more fluent than I really was. The started talking a mile a minute. No comprender.

Now instead of playing Saduko or some other mind challenge, I've decided to learn to speak French. Salut!Je parle Francais.

This Subject was definitely stoked by an interview on CBS Sunday Morning. The lead singer for Foo Fighters said that the reason he quit drugs at twenty was that he loved music and life. He avoided a common disaster in his business by quitting the things that take a toll in his arena so he could excel at something for which he had a passion 

I have always admired people who excel at something, but I have to recognize I never had the ability to focus on one thing so as to master it.

I don't know why I'm wired the way I am. It definitely supports those people close to me that tell me I'm to childish for a man my age. 
Enough about me.

See you on the internet
Salut! Poppa Jeff

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Diversity

As we look forward to celebrating the Pride we have in our Gay population, (Yeah, I couldn't resist the pun.) I'm pleased to report that diversity in the mix of our residents here in the Fox River Valley continues to surprise me. Example: As my wife and I waited for friends, in the lobby of the Marcus Hollywood Theater on the west side of Appleton, I witnessed three AfricanAmericann ladies buying snacks. Behind them was a Latino couple. At the end of the line, behind was an Asian fellow with three kids. We represented the WASP's. This is in a community that when I first visited in the nineteen sixties, if a black man walked down the street, he more than likely played football for Green Bay. After that, there was a rather pronounced immigration of Hmong and quieter arrival of Latino's. For a while, the worst keep secret was that the new Italian restaurant was actually owned by Mexican's. Since returning to the Valley, I've grown use...

A rustle in the hustings

I am trying to stay away from politics on my blog. I know that some of my intended readers do not share my feelings. As well, I don't entice dialogue. Occasionally my readers will address something I've written about. For the most part, they are merely saying something like, "Oh yeah, I felt that way too," regarding some experience, that I related. However, I have to share these particular feelings about the new Ryan Healthcare proposal that is sailing through the House of Representatives. Market-driven healthcare provision: This concept proposes that if put on the free market health care insurance will become more affordable. The theory is there will be competition among insurers to gain market share and lowering the prices will be a possible outcome. None of the insurers want customers who are old people or people with a pre-existing health problem ( heart disease, cancer, etc...) Older people, who are not on medicare, have more health care ne...

Ring The Bell

 It appears there is a tradition in the radiology department at Ascension Hospital that patients, upon completing their course of treatment, ring a bell. ( We know not for whom this bell tolls.) Ring the Bell with My Sweetheart Jeanne. Jeanne drove me to all but two of the appointments. Pam Frautchi took me to the other two. Today, after being zapped thirty-two times, I rang the bell. This begins a roughly one-month recovery period where the effects of the radiation abate and, I'm assured, a return to normalcy occurs. In my case, I anticipate more energy and greater awareness. Books, Books, & More Books I am simultaneously celebrating the end of the third year of volunteering for the All Saints Hunger Book Sale. Next week, we will wrap up the preparation for the sale and open our doors on August 3 for the public. I ran into this humourous but quite accurate cartoon on a T-Shirt that shows most of the volunteer's sentiments at this point. If you think the printed and bound p...