Wednesday, April 25, 2018

HOME AGAIN

                                                                              

I just wanted to say how good it is to be back in Crosslake. As nice as the warmth of the desert was for the duration of the winter, I never stopped thinking about my homeland. I wish my health were such that I didn’t have to run away when winter raises its frozen head. I think back to the times when my dog and I used to walk across the icy lake, trudging through deep snow to get our exercise. When it felt good to see your breath and have a little frost in your mustache. Those quiet days we spent in the fish house, waiting patiently for a Northern Pike to come in and hit that decoy. My little stove crackling and my dog lying on the floor watching with me, and how his tail would start thumping on the floor, when often he spotted the fish before I did. We would take walks in the woods after a fresh snowfall and it was a scene right out of Currier and Ives. It was so clean and so fresh and so quiet you hated to walk on it because your tracks would spoil it. I have lot of adjectives in my vocabulary, but right now none-- which would describe what I am trying to say.

Its not just the land that you leave behind when you depart, it’s the people, the town and the family and yes a whole way of life that you have lived all of your life. I am sure I speak for Pat too who was happy to be back in her home. Even Molly, who crawled in the back of the car dejected when our long journey back began, seemed to explode back to life when we turned that last corner.

I walked around the back yard this morning looking for signs of life and there was the rhubarb poking through. Some flowers, close to the house, poking out of the mulch, not even waiting to be uncovered. The lake is all gray and I know that ice out isn’t far away. Soon Andrea will be back next-door and we’ll sit on the back porch and talk away the afternoons. Two kindred neighbors with so much in common and so many memories of years gone by with the people we loved that won’t be back but are not forgotten. Even if it’s an adage “absence does make the heart grow fonder.”

There will be a long litany of firsts, just like there is every spring. The first loons to come back and the first fawns to walk in the yard. Apple blossoms and spring flowers everywhere. Before long it will be concerts in the park and campfires with the grandkids and great grandkids. Sometimes our conversations just live in the moment and sometimes we are seduced by memories. Pontoon rides around the lakes with Marv. Dinners on Horseshoe Lake, with Pat and the Graham family. Meat raffles, weddings, family reunions and coffee with the sunshine boys. Walks down the road with Molly; people stopping to say hi and welcome back. Talks with my church family that I missed so much. Yes, it’s life the way it was meant to be lived.

Then alas a time will come when the north wind will get cold again and the leaves will fall and it will be time to do that winter hiatus all over again. Arizona will be calling once more, but to put it into perspective, for me to say I will miss it as much as I miss Crosslake would be creating a false persona indeed.  But for now we’ll keep all that on the back burner where it belongs-- because summer is coming back to the lakes and this is exactly where I know I was meant to be.

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

THE AUCTIONEER

                                              

There is a song called the “Auctioneer,” and it was made popular by the country singer Leroy Van Dyke. He still performs it today, even though he is almost ninety years old. The song was often emulated but never sung better by others because you see-- Van Dyke was an auctioneer and to do that song justice, you had to be.

I went to my first auction when I was a young boy and I was amazed that anybody could talk like that. As I grew older and even after I was married, if there was an auction sign along the road, I stopped. The only reason I don’t go to auctions anymore is because at my age I have too much junk already and its time to get rid of some. When it is my time to move from my home in Crosslake I fully intend to have an auction and I’m going to enjoy every minutes of it.

My dearly beloved and now departed wife loved to go to auctions too. She was like a kid in a candy store and I had to be careful what I wished for out loud around the house because if that item came up in an auction it would likely find its way home. We never stood together at the auctions because she wanted no interference from me when it came to bidding. At one auction I was bidding on an item, when the auctioneer stopped the bidding and asked me if she came to the auction with me? I said, “she did.” He said,” Well, I saw you come in together and I want you to go home together and unless you don’t know it--- your bidding against each other.

We always wanted a pontoon boat and so one day at an auction on one of the area lakes, they had a nice clean one. We looked it over and she said; “What do you think its worth?” Oh maybe five thousand” I said. Never thinking for one minute she was going to bid on it. They sold that pontoon while I was in the biffy and you guessed who bought it? My wife. I asked her how much she paid for it and she said “six thousand.” I replied, “It wasn’t worth more then five.” It was to me”, she said. We had a quiet ride home, and then she went in the house and got into her private stash and gave me a thousand dollars. “Now were even,” she said. We spent more wonderful evenings and family outings on that pontoon together then I could ever list. She knew it was something that would bring us all together.

I had a dear friend who was an auctioneer and every once in a while he would give me a little bit of that auctioneers chant, just to tickle my spirits. He was member of the auctioneer’s hall of fame and he was one of the nicest men I ever was privileged to call my friend. There are days when I’m feeling out of sorts and ornery and I need only think of that wonderful man and all of his kindness, patience and friendship and I settle down in hurry. My biggest regret is he passed away before I had that last auction, I always wanted to have. It won’t be the same without you Gordy, but we’ll still have a good time my friend.

“Hey well, all right sir open the gate up and let em out and a welcome boys. Here we come, a lotta number nine and what you give for em? I’ve got a twenty-five dollar bid make it thirty dollar. Who’ll give me thirty------“ 

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

DRUGS



I have written about this subject before, and I won’t stop writing about it until either it, or I, go away. A few months back I heard of another fatality from drugs in our community. I guess it doesn’t surprise me, as it is becoming almost commonplace. As a parent and grandfather, the fear of this subject leads my list. As far as I know, my family has not been involved in this terrible epidemic of drug-related incidents, yet my heart aches for those who have. I can’t think of anything more heart-wrenching. For the victims here are not only the users, but also everyone who loved him or her. For those left behind, the agony, the guilt, the anger, and the profound sadness will never go away. For them life may go on, but it will never be the same.

To those of you who are involved with drugs, or thinking about it, let me say this. The next time you leave the house for any reason, I want you to go and hug your mom. I want you to look deep into her eyes. The same eyes that filled with tears the first time she saw you after carrying you for nine long months. It was at that moment when she realized, for the first time, the job she had ahead of her, to mold you into someone she would be proud of. That she had been given a gift of life, but at the same time a great responsibility. I’m betting she has enough photos to paper the house. Your first tooth, your first step, the first time you said, “Mommy.” She hid behind a tree and cried that first day you got on the school bus because, for the first time in your life, she wouldn’t be there if you got hurt or sick. But it was the only way she knew how to let you grow up. I want you to look at her again because once the drugs take over your life; you will never see her in that same light again. She will become your adversary, not your guardian.

So, let’s say you did do drugs and now you’re addicted. That was the first step to where you are today, and you know what? Those who have seen you come so far - your mom, dad, grandparents, all your friends and family - are still there for you, and now they want you to make them proud. If you’re already an addict, nothing you could do, for the rest of your life, would make them prouder than to see you kick this thing. There is no shame in falling down, only in not getting back up. There is so much help for you with this and it’s only a phone call away. Those people you thought were your friends who got you to this point today? They used you, and if you want to get started on the path back to a normal life then the first thing you need to do is cut ties with them right now. Tell them to get lost or get clean.

This country has spent over a trillion dollars on the war on drugs, and they’re no closer today to getting rid of them than they were before they started. There are many reasons for this, and none of them good ones. Poverty, greed, and a government who wants to make everybody happy so they can have their votes by legalizing some of it. Our jails are bursting at the seams with drug-related prisoners. Rape, incest, robberies, murder; they are all by-products of drug use and we all pay the bill for it. But, all of that aside, the heartbreak of losing a child to drugs can never be healed. I realize that at some point writing this is a lesson in futility, because if you are on drugs you’re not reading anything, but I had to try.  Maybe, if it’s not to late, Mom will show it to you.