You never know what you'll find until you find it

Let me preface by saying that for the last couple of months I've really kinda been out of sorts. I've been frustrated and confused with knowing that my 70th birthday is soon approaching. To me it's just unfathomable. It just doesn't seem possible. I've had my heels dug in refusing to accept it. So, I spent some time trying to figure out how this could be happening. And guess what?.....IT'S NOT....I'm not turning 70, I'm actually turning 65!!!.

Now I am sure some of you naysayers out there are scratchin' your head-brains and thinkin' this is just another Tommyboy scheme. Just another of his ploys of stretchin' the truth...just another of his Skeeter tricks. Well, you're wrong. I'VE GOT PROOF.

And, it not only shows that I am only 64 but it explains a whole lot of other questions as well.

I decided to go through a treasure trove of old family pictures and memorabilia that my brother, Dave, and sister -in-law sent me a couple of months ago and wow, did I truly discover a real treasure.

Apparently my real birth certificate had somehow gotten stuck down inside the flap of this old cardboard box and simply by chance was I able to discover it.

I started looking it over, not paying much attention to it until I spotted the birth date. August 16, 1953...NOT...August 16, 1948. For all of these years I have been under the impression that I was older than I was and which now means I can put off my 70th until 5 more years down the road. People have told me, "You don't look like you will be 70"...Well, heck no...I'm only 64 fixin' to turn 65.

More importantly it explains how all my years growin' up I was constantly being told by the nuns at Our Lady of Mercy, "Tommy, act your age"......"Tommy, grow up" or being told by my brothers, "Tommy, quit acting like a baby"......when in fact, here I was like supposedly ten years old when  I was only five. No wonder I got check marks for " unable to get along with others" or "does not accept supervision"...heck, I was 5 years younger than my peers.

Now I realize this is hard for all of you to comprehend because it certainly was for me when I found all of this out. But it could happen right?

Obviously there will be some repercussions because of all of this. I'm probably going to have to return some of my Social Security payments. I will have to get a new drivers license and the mountain of paperwork will be huge. But now I have time to do it. Five years of time.

And to all of my friends who I have whined to about turning 70......"Tough luck, suckers" I'm a new man!

Livin' La Dolce Vita

I’ve come to the Island, South Padre Island, with the intentions of relaxing, resting, becoming inspired and simply having fun. And, I guess maybe checking one or two items off of my bucket list and I guess doing some writing.

For too long, I’ve been searching for that purpose, though down here, that might better be said, searching for that porpoise. Nonetheless, it has always been me searching, trying to find the reason for my being. Trying to find what makes me tick, trying to understand.

But all it took was for me to wake up and see a sunrise. That’s it. All of the desires and wants are secondary to being able to see God’s presence before me each morning. The first one on Sunday was more than I expected. Spectacular. Beautiful. Powerful. Inspiring.

The next one was totally different in appearance but with the same emotions. Then today, today was a little different. We were up a little earlier than the days before and as I sat out on our balcony, I began to get a little nervous wondering where my sunrise was. I’ve pretty much quit looking at a clock or watch for the past few days but I knew the time for God’s masterpiece was nigh. But where was it?

I began reflecting on the previous day and began trying to put some order into my nervousness. Albeit foolish nervousness, yet the anxiety began to build. Where is my sunrise, God? How come you are late? What’s going on?

As I have been told all of my life, my plan isn’t necessarily His plan. My timeclock isn’t necessarily His timeclock. My purpose isn’t necessarily His purpose.

And suddenly there He was in all of His glory shining on me, shining on my beach. Shining on my island. Shining on my world. I guess my faith was tested again at least in my mind. He was coming. His sun was coming…..when He was ready.

I have found and now am living La Dolce Vita. I am living “the good life”. Not because I am fortunate enough to be able to be on an island and see both His sunrises and sunsets but because I was simply reminded as long as I can see the sun and feel the sun, I am still alive and that my friend, is “the good life”.

Sure, basking in the warmth. Walking in the sand. Hearing the roar of the waves. Feeling the coolness of the water all adds to the senses. But just being thankful for being alive as I learn of more and more acquaintances moving along gives me La Dolce Vita.

Do I need the beach to enjoy it more. Sure, I’m only human and there is nothing wrong with worldly pleasures. But if I lost it all today, all I would need is that sunrise.

Peace.

"To everything....turn, turn, turn"

Beautiful song, beautiful lyrics and a beautiful meaning.

Although Pete Seeger is credited with writing the lyrics to this song, as most people know these are verses from the book of Ecclesiastes with Pete adding the title and the phrase... turn, turn, turn. The Byrds then recorded it in the early 60's and I've been singing it all my life but never really listening to it, at least listening and understanding.

And then, one of the lines that I have been singing all of this time finally meant something to me:

"And a time to every purpose, under Heaven"

Tonight I was up at midnight having a conversation with my 15 year old grandson, Caleb. He and his brother, Nathan, are spending the weekend with us while my son-in-law, Ben and daughter, Kassidy, are celebrating Ben's birthday on a much needed weekend getaway in Oklahama City. Their two other boys, "The Littles", Owen and Brendon, are with Ben's Mom and Dad.

The weekend got off to a little bit of a rocky start after we had gotten home Friday afternoon from picking them up from a halfway point from Ardmore, Oklahoma. We had pretty much said goodnight to the boys later that evening only to have to Caleb wake us up and tell us he was hungry and it was 8:30 at night. I guess we had forgotten how teenagers have a bottomless pit for a stomach and time really doesn't have much meaning. Plus the fact we are old, as in "go to bed early old". Anyway, they wanted a pizza, we wanted sleep and the compromise was crackers.

Tonight however was different. 

I got up at midnight, just to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be, lights turned off, and dog not left outside. And not surprisingly, Caleb was awake and on his tablet.

I guess he was a little surprised I was awake and we exchanged some pleasantries and I let him get back to doing his thing, and me simply doing a walk-through.

And then I decided to talk. Better still, I decided to listen. 

It dawned on me, when was the last time I had kept quiet and listened to what other people had to say? When was the last time I allowed someone else to share their ideas and dreams without interruptions? When was the last time I listened to a teenager and was willing to think that they have dreams as well and something intelligent to add?

I kind of broke the ice a little as I shared some of the stupid things I did when I was his age. I caught myself holding back talking about the real stupid stuff like sneaking my Dad's car out of the garage in the middle of the night with my friend, Bobby R., but I did tell him about my smoking and the regrets for those actions.

And then it was his turn.

He told me of his wanting to be able to build a high-powered, extremely fast computer. He told me of how sometime later in life he wanted to start a business of having people who would work for him making company logos and he would sell the logos to different businesses. He told me how he might consider the military. He had a lot of ideas and I encouraged him and told him they were all doable.

We touched on his frustrations with his current laptop not working up to the capacity that he needed to do some of his gaming. Some of that frustration showed earlier in the day when he started yelling at the laptop and I told him to close it and not open it again while he was here. He apologized and I forgave him and moved on.

I opened the door a little wider and mentioned how anger and frustration is what is splitting this country in half. I wasn't surprised at all either when this 15 year old told me he was so tired of hearing the anger from people only because they have different views on politics. Hearing the anger makes him angry.

This was a wakeup call to me. And once again I heard the song in my head and the wonderful lyrics.

"A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together"

As I have written so many times before and asked the same question, "Why am I on this earth? Why am I here while my friends move on to another place?  Once again, the answer was right in front of me. I'm simply here to help a young boy, a young man, find his dreams and listen to what he has to say.

There's no place like home...

One of the neat things about time travel is the ability to not only go back in time, but to be able to go forward in time.

 I've been time travelling for all of my adult life and even some periods of my adolescence. Back then though it was called "day-dreaming" or "inability to focus" and then later a medical tag was placed on one's inner focus and us "imaginers" as I like to call it, were labeled as ADD or some other nonsense.

Even still, with all of the fun and excitement of taking your mind to wherever you wanted to go, there was always comfort in getting back home. I like to compare it or relate it to when you are returning from a long vacation and the warm feeling you get as you finally get to your street and you can see your house still standing right where you left it.

Or like the first joint you ever smoked, or so I am told, and you are really seeing things as never before but there is that anxiety of thinking "I wanna get home, I wanna get home".

For the last couple of months I've been on a journey into the future. It has been truly eye-opening and just like that long vacation, it felt so good to get back home.

This  last trip took me forward to the year 2017 and the first couple months of 2018. I could see myself vividly in the mirror. I didn't look too bad, but I had definitely aged. My hair was grey. My skin sagged. My posture had curved slightly and ugh....I was having trouble hearing and I could not believe I would soon be 70 years old. Thank goodness this was simply my mind's trip in the future. There was no way I was that old.

I still felt reasonably well though and despite the fact I didn't sleep like I used to, I still woke up feeling refreshed and ready to take on another day.

One of the sad parts of this recent time traveling journey was seeing the passing of friends, some of whom I had known all of my life.

I made notes during this trip and fortunately they were still in my mind when I woke up. I had written that I was going to take better care of myself both physically and mentally. And, I was going to try and enjoy each day as if it was my last.

It felt good to be back home. It felt good to know I was only in my late 30s and had a whole lifetime ahead of me. It felt good that I would be able to see and talk to those who would leave my life much too early. And then, oops it dawned on me.

I had accidentally set my timer on my mental time machine back way too far. My programming had gotten fouled up from me not paying attention. And, the trip to the future that I thought I had been on was in fact a trip to the present.

I guess I'll need a slight tune-up on my "head-brain traveling machine" before I go off on another journey. And whether I go to the past or go to the future, I'll always be happy to get back home, despite the fact that my body has aged even though my mind is as young as ever.

For me, it all started with Ovaltine....

What makes us who we are today? What patterns did we learn early on to set our wheels in motion? What stimulus did we receive that is the basis for our being?....Pretty heavy thoughts, huh?......Nah, at least not for me, because my habits, my methods, my personal rules all began with Ovaltine.

If you have never had the pleasure of experiencing this concoction of barley malt, milk serum (whatever the heck that it is) rapeseed oil (yikes) and other ingredients, well my friends, you need to try it.....NOT!...and yes, they are still making it after over 100 years.

My first encounter with Ovaltine all started not because of it being a breakfast drink or a breakfast substitute, my initial contact was because of some persuasive, controlled advertising by the hawksters who decided back in the 50s to find a way to sell more product by offering something a heck of a lot better than that yucky drink. They offered a prize. One that every little boy and little girl desired.
The Captain Midnight Decoder Ring.

The way the scam went, was you simply sent in a label from the product and probably a dime or a quarter and a self-addressed stamped envelope and you got his incredible spy decoder ring that you would use to decipher messages broadcast at the close of the Captain Midnight Show on early television in the 50s. Prior to the TV show, there was a radio show of the same name as well as a radio show called, Little Orphan Annie, that also sent out messages.

Well, I begged and begged for Mom to buy a jar of Ovaltine. I wanted it so bad I found myself making bargains with her, cutting deals, doing extra chores just so I could have a chance for that decoder ring. We finally came to an arrangement...If I drank, or if I could coerce my brothers to help drink, the whole jar of Ovaltine, then she would send away for the prize.

This was my first lesson in learning that sometimes you have to make sacrifices, sometimes you have to struggle, sometimes you have to do a lot of hard work to get something that you really wanted. Even though in the end,  if it wasn't everything you expected, at least you learned to fight the battles to win the war.

As I grew older and the cereal companies grew wiser, they began to put prizes in cereal boxes as well. I can remember this cool scuba diver that was in a box of Cheerios, wrapped in plastic and placed down in the bottom of the box. You added a little baking soda to the diver and placed him in a tub of water and he would float along the bottom occasionally letting out a bubble....After you ate enough Cheerios you would begin to see part of the toy and start asking for seconds just to receive the reward for your efforts.

After that came Cracker Jacks....oh yeah....and they are still making that product and of course it has the secret ingredient to sell more product.....the toy inside. At least Cracker Jacks had a lot better flavor than the dreaded Ovaltine.

All in all, at least for me, they were all good lessons, although sometimes the reasoning was flawed.

I worked hard to get to the end result. The toy, the gift was dangled in front of me by the Madmen of Madison Avenue and they knew I wanted it. Their goal was to sell product. My goal was to win the prize. And I guess, somewhere along the way we both got what we wanted.

Later in life I learned that the end goal isn't so important as the effort that one puts into it. If we are rewarded a prize with little effort, then we have learned nothing. If we are rewarded a prize for just showing up, we have cheated ourselves of one of the most important things in life. The prize of learning.

By the way, after I got my Captain Midnight Decoder Ring, I couldn't wait for the next episode to air and send the message out after the show. I watched patiently as the codes went across the screen and I copied them down.

The message was...."Drink more Ovaltine"........that too was a lesson I learned and can remember some 60 years later.....