Back in Town

So, I hear you’re back in town. You haven’t crossed my mind in years, but now I hear you’re back. Curious. I remember our first…hmmm…how should I put this…encounter? Yeah…encounter. A serious situation always calls for serious word usage. What was I…3 maybe 4…when I first became aware of your nightly presence? Sometimes under the bed…sometimes in the closet…always pretty spooky. Never really saw you, but I knew you were there…waiting. The rules were pretty clear though. No feet or hands hanging over the edge of the bed. I wasn’t going to give you the chance to grab anything buster! And as long as the covers were over my head…I was safe. Covers made the bed “Under the Bed and Closet Monster” proof. No quite sure how that worked, but thank God it did. I’m sure millions of children have been saved by the “Covers” rule. You went away for quite a while, but returned to your usual hiding places when my own kids were little. Forcing me once again to invoke the “Covers” rule and nightly “Under the Bed and Closet Monster” reconnaissance patrols. And now you’re back once again. This time you’re trying to mess with my grandkids. So, let’s get something very, very clear here Bud. The “Covers” rule and nightly “Under the Bed and Closet Monster” reconnaissance patrols are still very much in place. This time though there is something else you should be very aware of and I want you to ask yourself this…punk. Are you feeling lucky? Because this time…you’re messing with a Grandpa!

Slanted Rays and Colored Days

I've been asked to repeat this...again. Thanks for asking----Fall will be here soon. Arriving with her many colors like bright burning embers of summer’s dying fire. Beautiful, but brief. Marking the cooling of the air...the lowering of the clouds...and the coming of Winter’s silver blue. The slanted rays and colored days, as Lightfoot put it, stir many emotions. There’s a certain sadness about a lonely chevron of wild geese in the distant sky. And the rattle of dry leaves on shivering, skeleton trees. Night falls sooner and seems a shade darker. It’s a bittersweet time of memories...loves lost and found and old friends and family past and gone. For me...I know I miss my Dad more in the Fall. I do love the Fall though. Sweater weather and nightly fires in the fireplace. For all the endings Fall brings it’s also such a gateway of promise and good times. Soon will come the little ghosts and goblins of Halloween. The warmth and good cheer of Thanksgiving. The magic of Christmas. The hope of a brand New Year. Fall...the bright burning embers of Summer’s dying fire. The season of what might have been. The season of what could be.

Halloween Wind

It’s a Halloween wind that blows tonight. Can you feel it? Warm and sweet, but with just the slightest touch of frost around the edges. It’s the kind of wind that gently rattles drying leaves on soon to be skeleton trees. It’s the kind of wind that lifts outbound geese in chevron flight and drives the clouds low across a fiery sunset sky. It’s a Halloween wind that blows tonight. It’s the kind of wind that makes the evening shadows dance and the critters nervous. It’s a wind that whispers that a change is coming. Get ready. It’s a wind that whirls the mist around a gnarly old oak as easily as it does a faded memory around a lonely heart. It’s a Halloween wind that blows tonight. Soon the witching season will be here and restless spirits will once again take flight under the ghostly cast of a harvest moon. It’s a Halloween wind that blows tonight. Can you feel it?

When Age Speaks

Our neighbors just put up a brand new fence. A brand new, shiny bright, wooden fence. And in this old neighborhood... it sticks out like the perverbial sore thumb. Which got me to thinking. Now, don’t get me wrong. New has some good things going for it. The biggest one being...well...it’s new. But new can be brash and inappropriate. New can be noisy...even to the eyes. And new is always terribly inexperienced. Age has earned its place. Age has a quiet confidence and a proven strength. It has weathered the storms of time. And while age often shows its age...those same scars reflect its character. Age speaks with the voice of authority and says...”You can trust me”. Age has been there, done that and lived through it. Age has heard it all...probably more than once. And it has learned what to believe, what to hold dear and what really matters. Age can teach and for its own good...New had better listen.

On My Birthday

Most of us have an image in our heads of what we think we look like. This HD picture of what we think other people see when they look at us. Well...most of us are wrong. Believe me...this conclusion is from first hand experience. See, my image of me...my head picture...is that of a mature, dashing, athletic, rugged man of the world. That's me. That's even the guy I see in the bathroom mirror. Then I was handed a photo recently taken of my oldest son and I. "Isn't this a nice shot?", my wife said. I was stunned. Who the heck is that balding, graying, overweight, old guy standing next to my kid? What cruel practical joke is this? That guy can't be me. My hair may be thinning, but that guy in the picture is damn near bald. I'm mature...that guy's looking old. I'm athletic...that guy in the picture actually has jowls and a belly. Hey, only old, English character actors have jowls and bellies. Alright...jokes over. Who is this guy and what have you done with my kid's Dad?

Slanted Rays and Colored Days

I've been asked to repeat this. Thanks for asking----Fall will be here soon. Arriving with her many colors like bright burning embers of summer’s dying fire. Beautiful, but brief. Marking the cooling of the air...the lowering of the clouds...and the coming of Winter’s silver blue. The slanted rays and colored days, as Lightfoot put it, stir many emotions. There’s a certain sadness about a lonely chevron of wild geese in the distant sky. And the rattle of dry leaves on shivering, skeleton trees. Night falls sooner and seems a shade darker. It’s a bittersweet time of memories...loves lost and found and old friends and family past and gone. For me...I know I miss my Dad more in the Fall. I do love the Fall though. Sweater weather and nightly fires in the fireplace. For all the endings Fall brings it’s also such a gateway of promise and good times. Soon will come the little ghosts and goblins of Halloween. The warmth and good cheer of Thanksgiving. The magic of Christmas. The hope of a brand New Year. Fall...the bright burning embers of Summer’s dying fire. The season of what might have been. The season of what could be.

Honor

These days, in this “I’m getting mine, you’re on your own” world we have created... where is our Honor? And what are we teaching our children about being Honorable? In the little opportunities we have every day to show that we are Honorable people...do we? These days being in front, having the most, winning at any cost and getting our way seem to be much more important than telling the truth, doing the right thing, giving someone a hand up or letting someone else’s better idea...be the better idea. Where is our Honor? Simple words...Please...Thank You ...Excuse Me...are Honorable words. When is the last time you heard one? Honor is showing respect for ourselves and others. Honor is doing what’s right even when no one is watching. Honor can be shown and more importantly...taught...in the smallest of ways. What are we teaching our children? Where is our Honor?