All posts by Jim

81

A Pocket of Resistance

Last year, i prepped; i partied; i cleaned up in the rain. We had a total of 70 folks in our house and under our patio and tents in the back, not counting the next door neighbor’s taqueria catering folks in the garage and under tents in the front –still don’t like garages in the front. Even though i had expressed the party was to thank all of the great folks in my life, i was given gifts and lauded for looking younger than 80.

It was gloriously perfect for a man of four score years.

This year, i have some home projects to complete, some posts to write, some books to read, some exercising to do, a walk, some piano to play (simply), and at least two naps on my docket. i may watch a sports event or a movie or documentary, and i will have a fire.

The weather is completely different from a year ago. The day after the party, we had record rain and floods, of all things, in the Southwest corner. Today, the threats of wildfires that have ravaged the big city north of us have abated. It is cool, cold for this neck of the woods with a low in the low 40s. We are experiencing humidity that is not akin to the deserts to the east.

i don’t think Maureen has planned anything special and that is just fine. Tonight, i will sit in my chair in the family room, have a fire in the hearth, and a glass of wine. Today, i’m thinking about things i would like to impart to my grandson, my thoughts, which i do not expect him to completely understand. These thoughts are not things for him to follow, only to give him my perspective from eighty years, which has mostly been a good life.

To begin, Sam, it has become apparent to me that folks are all alike, no matter what country they live, what culture in which they were raised, what color of skin they have, or what religion they follow. In each group larger than a dozen or so, there are folks with good intentions, folks who just want to be left alone to be with their families, folks who just want to have fun and for things to be easy, folks who like to work, folks who want to be famous, folks who are kind, folks who want to make things better, folks who are bullies, folks who cheat, folks who lie, and folks who try to manipulate others for their own fortunes, and folks who kill.

i finally have recognized the futility of trying to change folks’ minds. They are going to believe what they want to believe regardless of truth, logic. So i am now trying to live the rest of my life living well and doing what’s right.

In short, Sam, i have had a great life and never had the intention to hurt or get the best of anyone. i have screwed up, sometimes royally, but not without good intention. It is a great place to be. Oh, there are things i wish were different, better for folks i know and i will help if asked. But at 81, it is good to sit by the fire in the evening and reflect on memories. i hope you will find this peace when you reach my age. Better yet, i will have this wonderful woman sitting across the room from me.

Oh yes, i had a great birthday present a day early yesterday. Vanderbilt’s basketball team beat Tennessee. And my quests for better golf and learning Spanish continue.

A Politically Incorrect, Perfect Response, and a Legend Enhanced

Sea Stories

It was a perfect moment on a golf course. The Curmudgeons were in their heyday.

My neighbors, Keith Macumber, Randy Prescott, and Spud Mumby had joined our original bunch of Navy guys met during my career and, of course, the legendary Army Artillery Major Marty Linville.

Our foursome that day consisted of Marty, Spud, Rod, and myself, were on the eighteenth tee. Spud hit a nasty duck hook that curved into the parking lot and struck the side of a white car stupidly parked where an errant tee shot could strike your car. Spud was contrite. After hitting a second tee shot, he walked over to where his errant ball had landed.

As Spud approached, an older man and his son came out of the 19th hole restaurant. The old man proceeded to read Spud the riot act, accusing him of intentionally hitting his car, demanding to see Spud’s insurance, Navy ID, license and several other things.

Spud was embarrassed but everything he said only made the old man more irate.

Marty and i had walked over to see what was happening. Marty was not known to tolerate stupid or bullies. He looked at what was going on and said to the old man:

“Fuck off and die.”

The old man stopped in his tracks, looked confused, and became contrite. We all walked away quietly…with, of course, laughing to ourselves and adding to our legend of Marty.