Wednesday, October 28, 2015

SHE WAS NOT AMUSED

                                             
So my oldest daughter flew up from Mesa with her husband and daughter for a week. Knowing she was coming, I spent two days cleaning my house before she got here because she is a clean freak and she has threatened to call the county and have me put in a foster home. You see once your wife passes away, your daughters feel that you have now reverted back to one step above an infant. I asked Pat, who comes to my house, quite often for an assessment of my house cleaning ability and she said it was good, so I have gotten a second opinion, from one who knows or at least keeps the truth to herself.

My daughter ran my vacuum cleaner for three hours straight the other day. She brings me the collection container and shows me what’s inside. “What is this Dad?” she asks. “That’s called dog hair,” I answered. “You have met Molly have you not? That’s that big dog over by the back door. Molly is a shedding machine. Molly can lose a hair and grow and shed another one, out of the same follicle in the same day. If the doggy gynecologist looked in Molly’s mother’s uterus she would have found a hairball bigger than Dolly Parton’s wig.” She was not amused.

“Dad you have spiders. I have killed two of them since I have been here.” Reply. “Everybody has to be someplace. Even spiders. I hope you didn’t kill Elmer because he was one of my favorites. I feel sorry for Elmer because he only has seven legs but he does get around pretty good for a handicapped spider. Not sure if he was born that way or if he had a terrible accident.” Again she was not amused.

Back to the vacuuming, anything to quit talking about spiders. “Dad how often do you vacuum.” Reply. “Twice a week and then once a month I bring in my back pack blower and do a good job. But only if the wind is from the north and I can open the back door and blow it all outside. By the way the blower found a pair of girls underwear the other day under the bed. It went out the back door and is stuck in that spruce tree; does it belong to your girls? It has ‘Wonder Woman’ on the back of it and I know that’s not you.”  Again she was not amused.

“Dad how many kitchen towels do you think you have. The drawer is so full I can’t close it. You need to change with the silverware drawer because it’s bigger and besides---“Reply. I went to the towel drawer in mid sentence, took out half of them and threw the rest in the trash. “Problem fixed. Leave my silverware drawer alone.” Again she was not amused.

“Dad do you realize your electric toothbrush is sitting within four feet of the toilet?”
Reply. “Actually its thirty three inches and I do keep it there because that’s where the outlet is and I didn’t think having an extension cord draped over the vanity is a good thing and the shortest cord I have is a fifty footer. I want you to know I try very hard not to pee on my toothbrush. I don’t always hit the middle of the bowl but for all practical purposes I still get in the vicinity. If in the future it gets to be a problem I will go outside with Molly by the Spruce tree. The one with the panties hanging in it.” Again not amused.



Wednesday, October 21, 2015

PRIMING THE PUMP

                                                
When I was a youngster, we had a pump in the park where you could get water for the animals or a cool drink for yourself, after an afternoon of playing baseball. The pump was old and it leaked a little air so to get it started you had to pour some water down the well pipe to prime the pump. The water for priming was in an old rusty coffee can that had been filled by the last person who used the pump.  Once primed, you could pump water as long as your arms held out. Then when you were done you filled the coffee can, and left it there, with water for the next person. The can was always there and always full. It was strangers helping strangers. Someone befriended you, thought of you and you in turn wanted to repay the kindness.

I want all of us to take look around us at the youngest family member we have, be it a niece or nephew, brother or sister, son or daughter or my youngest granddaughter who is eight. These youngsters are our hope for the future and we need to do everything we can to help them get educated and become the leaders of tomorrow. We also need to do everything in our power to safe guard the world they have to live in. We need to leave them some water to prime the pump so they can keep going. We live in an increasingly greedy world, where sharing and caring, often takes a back seat to money and power.

I often look at the youngest generation and think—what kind of a world have we left you? Has our overwhelming greed for self-satisfaction left you an empty can? Our air and waters become more polluted every day. Our code of ethics that used to include good morals and a sense of decency has been watered down. Yes, we do reap what we sow but the sad part of it is, the next generation reaps what we sow also. A few weeks back the Pope came to our country and his message to all of us was, “start caring about each other.” Even if you’re not Catholic or even a Christian, how can you argue with that kind of logic? I’m not an Ellen DeGeneres fan but I watch the news and so often I catch the last five minutes of her show. The last thing she says everyday is “Be kind to each other.” We shouldn’t have to be reminded to do that. It should be second nature.

We look to our government so much to fix things for us and make us all get along. It’s almost like we always need direction from a higher power to do what is right. Or we need a law that makes us do it. What does that say about us? Even as a young boy scout we used to repeat an oath to the scout law. “To help other people at all times. To keep ourselves physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight.” You can bake a cake and leave out an essential ingredient and to all outward appearances it’s still a cake. But the truth will come out when you share it. That’s the way life is too. If you practice what you preach and you preach love and caring then you have all of the ingredients to be authentic.


None of us will be here forever. Lets keep the can full for the next person.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

THANK YOU

                                                            
Earlier today I received a phone call from a lady who wanted to thank me for writing for the newspapers. She was a former English Teacher so it was doubly special for me to hear from her. I know for a fact that my English would never win much recognition but I’m glad it met hers and I’m glad to have her endorsement. I love to take compliments and turn them into something positive and today I am here to tell you that the overwhelming amount of people I meet, are the reason I have so much to write about, and my world is so great. These are people who get up each day, to do their part, to make this nation better for all of us and they never get enough credit. This morning this lady told me “she doesn’t say thank you enough” and I’m here to tell you “neither do I,” so----to all of my readers, you don’t know how much it helps a writer, to be a better writer, when you hear positive things, so thank you so very much for your support. 

I need to share my credits with a few other people. Glenda Berndt who helps me out with my writing. My English teacher from a half a century ago who said simply—“Write Mike.” and good things will happen. The Northland Press for giving me a venue to write in. Pat, for keeping me in a good frame of mind and all of you readers who have wrote to me or simply talked to me in passing. Also, it helps to be living in this lake country we live in, where Mother Nature and the good Lord above have blessed us all so much and so often. Writing comes from inspiration and I’m inspired each time I walk out my back door. I have on many occasions met and continue to meet people who inspire me and I have also read much that has motivated me to write better. I think when you sit down to your keyboard and start to compose something; you are always drawn to subjects that have been written about over and over again. There is little new news in this world that hasn’t been done before but there are lots of old stories that need to be written about again. The trick is to write it in a new light and to write about things people want to hear.

I was blessed to travel to Hannibal Missouri over Labor Day. I say blessed because at least in my mind, if I had to lay claim to a writing mentor it would have been Mark Twain. His books are just a soliloquy of life itself, as seen through Twains eyes. Told as only he could tell them because he was the one who had actually lived them. But it’s about something much deeper then his books, as it also applies to his many, quips, quotes and observations of life around him too. He seemed to be always filled with quick wit and an uncanny way of expressing himself. At least in my mind there has been no equal to Mark Twain for all around writing. While in Hannibal, Pat and I took a ride down the old muddy on a riverboat and I couldn’t help but feel the presence of Twain-- or at least his literary creations, Tom and Huck, on every sandbar and Island we passed. I think every red blooded American boy at some point, feels some of the adventurous energy that Tom and Huck had and so many of us have also had a Becky Thatcher in our lives. I think every writer worth his salt has found something that Mark Twain said, and wished they had coined it instead.




Wednesday, October 7, 2015

GRANDPARENTS



Growing up, I was one of the lucky people who had a meaningful relationship with paternal grandparents. Because of divorce, I never knew my other grandparents, and that is sad. In the summer months, I would spend a week with Dad’s parents at their home in Northern Minnesota, and they made frequent visits to my parent’s home in Staples. When they got older and frailer, they moved to Staples and lived just blocks away from us so my dad could watch over them. They moved to the cities to a rest home about the same time that I was going out into the world, so I was able to continue to see them until their passing.

I think the relationship with grandparents is so special because here are people who love and care about you, without them having much disciplinary duty so, in a way, you’re more relaxed around them and you get a sense of what it was like for your parent to grow up in their home as a child. You also get a glimpse into how your parent compares to them as far as values are concerned. When we talk about the erosion of our morals and values in today’s society, to be able to go back in time another generation really brings things into perspective.

My dad was a great dad, but his dad was my hero. He had an air about him that is hard to explain, it just garnered instant respect. He loved people and went out of his way to meet them and make friends—and he had a lot of them. My dad was more reserved, and although he got along with people, he was not that outgoing. I think, in my own life, I have chosen to be more like grandpa because I had his example to look back on. I am sure, had I never met him, my life would be quite different. Now to be fair, I am sure Grandpa was on his best behavior around me. A luxury not always afforded my father.

In a way, grandparents can be supplemental parents, if we let them. I think most kids would like the opportunity to have that relationship with grandpa and grandma, and I think most grandparents would like to be an influence in their grandchildren’s lives. This can, sometimes, become a little bit of a balancing act because, as grandparents, you may think you know your children well, but your child’s spouse has equal interest in those kids. His/her views and wishes have to be taken into consideration, too, or you become this divisive character—and that does more harm than good.


Divorce and separation of your children can cause a lot of heartaches for grandparents. For many of them, they are robbed of having any kind of a relationship with their grandchildren. A few weeks back I spoke with a wonderful lady who said, “It wasn’t just losing her grandchildren, but losing a daughter-in-law she had grown to love, too, when her son went through with a divorce.” In times like this, as grandparents and parents, you seem powerless and torn. Sir Walter Scott’s words, “Oh what a tangled web we weave,” rings through my head as I write this, but in this case it has nothing to do with deception—just the cruel ironies of life itself for grandparents.