Human beings are rather complicated creatures. A college professor of mine once quoted the following, "The only thing that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom are table manners." For the longest I agreed with this trite sentiment, but over the years I've learned to disagree...somewhat.
We live in the emotional, some more than others. Since other animals can't speak, nor convey specific emotion, we assume they are either happy or content. But we are unique in this old world. We have at our disposal so many ways to communicate how we feel, our wants, our desires, and our obligations.
In our youth, we are often told we "believe the world revolves around us," but that is not really true in the purest sense of the word. While young, we only focused on the here and now, and have little concept of tomorrow or years down the road. Seventy years of age to an eighteen year old seems a million light years from them.
As we age, we become more socially, economically, and humanly aware. Our focus changes ever-so-slightly over time so that a legacy is left for our own children and grandchildren, however large or small it may be. Our impact on other's lives means more to us than it did when we had hair, lacked wrinkles, or the dreaded middle age spread.
This weekend, I was reminded of this more so than normal. As I normally do, my weekends are very busy with work, especially during the Spring and Summer months. However, I stopped for a moment to consider my children and where they are in their lives. I thought about my Mom, and my mother-in-law and how I hoped I made them proud. From deep down inside, I realized my legacy was two-fold: a desire for my children and family to be proud of me and what I have done in life, and to leave something positive for them all should I exit this world tomorrow.
All the money in the world doesn't matter, all the empty words, or simplistic and meaningless gifts we give have nothing to do with legacy. Memories and positive impact are what make us immortal in other's eyes. And while this sounds ego-centric, I believe this lasting legacy is what most of us want.
We are all human beings with our own faults, dreams, and desires. Why shouldn't we help those closest to us achieve those things they desire, or at least give them our undying love and support while they make way through this world.
Peace, love, and coffee to you all.
Sunday, May 20, 2018
Wednesday, May 9, 2018
A Road Trip: Americana Style
It has been a few years since my last extensive road trip. If you exclude my daily jaunts into the metro Atlanta area, and eliminate the daily dose of road rage I suffer as a result of those drives in and out of the city, I really haven't driven very far. My last formidable drive was from Allentown, PA southward to Augusta, GA four or five years ago!
So, I headed off to Chicago this weekend to meet the newest addition to our family, our first granddaughter. I was so very excited to hold her, play with her, and teach her the value of screaming, "Roll Tide Roll!" After learning to articulate those three words, she will most certainly be destined for greatness.
My drive took me north into Tennessee; Chattanooga to Nashville, to be exact, before turning north and pushing through Bowling Green, Kentucky. If you have never seen glorious Nickajack just outside of Chattanooga, you are missing something. A broad expanse of water that lies in the shadows of Lookout Mountain, the wonder and beauty of it is difficult to articulate.
Someday, I would love to take the time to visit the Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, Kentucky, as I have passed it by at least four or five dozen times in my life, but time is never my ally when I travel solo, so, once again, the museum will have to wait. That said, I think fondly of sinkholes and crying insurance companies each time I see that line of checkered flags just to my west as I cruise by it.
From Bowling Green, I passed over the rolling hills of central Kentucky until finally arriving at the construction riddled city of Louisville. Named after a famous French king, Louisville is the perfect name for a city whose roads are constantly being re-paved. King Louis XVI, famously beheaded on the guillotine would have been proud of Louisville's constant construction zones. Some of the potholes I have hit on Interstate 65 through that fair town have made me feel as though my head would fall off and fillings would drop from my teeth. That said, I do enjoy seeing Louisville's small skyline built upon the Ohio River and the highway tribute to Mohammad Ali, who was born and raised in the city.
In most places, I can find beauty. In Indiana, I find it in my rearview mirror. I apologize to all my Indiana friends, but that drive is five of the most boring hours of my life. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy corn, just not five hours of it. Your windmill farm north of Lafayette is cute, especially if you like slowly moving monstrosities winking a red eye at you with great regularity. It's enough to give Frodo Baggins chills up and down his spine! The state's saving grace, however, are its wonderful people. The place is full of good country folk that talk funny. I love 'em!
If you have never had the pleasure of driving through or around Chicago, you have no idea what you are missing. Bumper-to-bumper fun with millions of your closest friends. At least they use turn signals here; contrast that to my daily Atlanta commute and I have to smile at Chicagoan's curious road "politeness."
Seeing the Sears Tower (yes, I know, Willis...what you talking about?) to your east is really quite inspiring. As I drove north and saw the massive building fade to my southeast, I grew even more inspired. That meant I was closer to my destination!
At long last, I arrived at my destination. After a weekend of emotional highs and lows (you'll have to read my previous blog entry to understand this), I was relieved to be here and finally get to meet our newest addition to the family, Maya, affectionately called "Maya Papaya." Our little granddaughter is a perfect little piece of art. Even her shrill little cry makes me smile.
The return trip to Alabama is scheduled to begin in a few days. As I sat belly-aching about it last night, Cathy said, "We should check out the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky." And that, fellas, is why I married her. Naturally, the anticipation of getting to our Bourbon Trail starting point will be prolonged by our drive through Indiana, but at least the state has some great people. :)
So, I headed off to Chicago this weekend to meet the newest addition to our family, our first granddaughter. I was so very excited to hold her, play with her, and teach her the value of screaming, "Roll Tide Roll!" After learning to articulate those three words, she will most certainly be destined for greatness.
My drive took me north into Tennessee; Chattanooga to Nashville, to be exact, before turning north and pushing through Bowling Green, Kentucky. If you have never seen glorious Nickajack just outside of Chattanooga, you are missing something. A broad expanse of water that lies in the shadows of Lookout Mountain, the wonder and beauty of it is difficult to articulate.
Someday, I would love to take the time to visit the Corvette Museum in Bowling Green, Kentucky, as I have passed it by at least four or five dozen times in my life, but time is never my ally when I travel solo, so, once again, the museum will have to wait. That said, I think fondly of sinkholes and crying insurance companies each time I see that line of checkered flags just to my west as I cruise by it.
From Bowling Green, I passed over the rolling hills of central Kentucky until finally arriving at the construction riddled city of Louisville. Named after a famous French king, Louisville is the perfect name for a city whose roads are constantly being re-paved. King Louis XVI, famously beheaded on the guillotine would have been proud of Louisville's constant construction zones. Some of the potholes I have hit on Interstate 65 through that fair town have made me feel as though my head would fall off and fillings would drop from my teeth. That said, I do enjoy seeing Louisville's small skyline built upon the Ohio River and the highway tribute to Mohammad Ali, who was born and raised in the city.
In most places, I can find beauty. In Indiana, I find it in my rearview mirror. I apologize to all my Indiana friends, but that drive is five of the most boring hours of my life. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy corn, just not five hours of it. Your windmill farm north of Lafayette is cute, especially if you like slowly moving monstrosities winking a red eye at you with great regularity. It's enough to give Frodo Baggins chills up and down his spine! The state's saving grace, however, are its wonderful people. The place is full of good country folk that talk funny. I love 'em!
If you have never had the pleasure of driving through or around Chicago, you have no idea what you are missing. Bumper-to-bumper fun with millions of your closest friends. At least they use turn signals here; contrast that to my daily Atlanta commute and I have to smile at Chicagoan's curious road "politeness."
Seeing the Sears Tower (yes, I know, Willis...what you talking about?) to your east is really quite inspiring. As I drove north and saw the massive building fade to my southeast, I grew even more inspired. That meant I was closer to my destination!
The return trip to Alabama is scheduled to begin in a few days. As I sat belly-aching about it last night, Cathy said, "We should check out the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky." And that, fellas, is why I married her. Naturally, the anticipation of getting to our Bourbon Trail starting point will be prolonged by our drive through Indiana, but at least the state has some great people. :)
Saturday, May 5, 2018
My Baby and the United States Army
Something that is uniquely different about the United States and many countries around the world is the phrase volunteer force. Militaries around the globe still have mandatory requirements for men (and sometimes women) to serve for a certain amount of time. Here in the States, conscription is not in place and our service members serve of their own free will.
Yesterday, May 5th, along with members of my family, our youngest daughter was publicly sworn into the U.S. Army. Hooah! It was a site to behold--dozens of our young standing on the old federal building steps in Gadsden, Alabama, each wearing shirts representing their respective branch of the military. They stood their before their recruiters and family and repeated their promise to uphold and protect the United States Constitution, and to protect us all against enemies "foreign and domestic." Wow.
I spent time considering that oath and realized the things I have done in my life pale in comparison to the promise these kids made. And close to the top of those steps stood my daughter Cassidy. She was beautiful, smiling, excited, and happy. Her dad was proud, happy, sad, and apprehensive all at the same time.
It is a natural thing for a parent to worry about their child. My concerns are even higher for a kid who enjoys sleeping to the crack of noon, walks like a tortured P.O.W. when asked to wash her dishes, and grunts when told to make her bed. But...but...but...
Over the past few months since she elected to join the military, I have watched a form of discipline overtake her. She willingly goes to P.T. during the week and, literally, runs laps around others who were a part of the group standing on those steps. Her little arms started taking on a much more muscular shape, and my proudest moment...
Prior to her swearing in, our neighbor, who is a pastor of a local church, came over and asked if he could pray over her. "Sure," she said. Before praying, he asked her a few questions about God, love, and perseverance. Each time she responded, she said, "Yes sir." To say my heart swelled with pride would be an understatement. She gets it, I know she gets it, and a pastor who is probably used to hearing, "Yeah," and "Uh huh" when he speaks with youth gets it too. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the prayer he offered then went on to work on a chore I had assigned her. She didn't even grunt this time.
Yeah, I am nervous and simultaneously overwhelmed with pride.
Go Cassidy, and go Army!
Yesterday, May 5th, along with members of my family, our youngest daughter was publicly sworn into the U.S. Army. Hooah! It was a site to behold--dozens of our young standing on the old federal building steps in Gadsden, Alabama, each wearing shirts representing their respective branch of the military. They stood their before their recruiters and family and repeated their promise to uphold and protect the United States Constitution, and to protect us all against enemies "foreign and domestic." Wow.
I spent time considering that oath and realized the things I have done in my life pale in comparison to the promise these kids made. And close to the top of those steps stood my daughter Cassidy. She was beautiful, smiling, excited, and happy. Her dad was proud, happy, sad, and apprehensive all at the same time.
It is a natural thing for a parent to worry about their child. My concerns are even higher for a kid who enjoys sleeping to the crack of noon, walks like a tortured P.O.W. when asked to wash her dishes, and grunts when told to make her bed. But...but...but...
Over the past few months since she elected to join the military, I have watched a form of discipline overtake her. She willingly goes to P.T. during the week and, literally, runs laps around others who were a part of the group standing on those steps. Her little arms started taking on a much more muscular shape, and my proudest moment...
Prior to her swearing in, our neighbor, who is a pastor of a local church, came over and asked if he could pray over her. "Sure," she said. Before praying, he asked her a few questions about God, love, and perseverance. Each time she responded, she said, "Yes sir." To say my heart swelled with pride would be an understatement. She gets it, I know she gets it, and a pastor who is probably used to hearing, "Yeah," and "Uh huh" when he speaks with youth gets it too. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the prayer he offered then went on to work on a chore I had assigned her. She didn't even grunt this time.
Yeah, I am nervous and simultaneously overwhelmed with pride.
Go Cassidy, and go Army!
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