What A Day!

Mark it down. It's July 16th and the actual outside temperature is 72 degrees. If you're not from around these parts, that's about 30 degrees cooler than normal July temps.

Mark it down. It's July 16th and apparently Archie Andrews is dead. Well, not the real Archie, the perpetual teenager that loves both Betty and Veronica. The Archie that died is (or was) apparently a sort of What-If Archie, as in: what would have happened if Archie had grown up? What-If Archie had his own comic book series called "Life With Archie." Today issue #36 hit the marketplace. This issue tells how Archie died. I called every comic book store in town and they are all sold out.

Turns out that Archie as an adult was quite a character, but continued to have red-hair, freckles and a good heart. He was somehow married to both Betty and Veronica. He met his demise when he stepped between a gay senator and a gunman. The senator was making a speech about gun rights.

I didn't even know that Archie had grown up, or that comic books had grown up for that matter.

But don't be too sad, because, as I said, Archie was lucky enough to have two story lines. The "real" Archie is apparently still alive and still a teenager.

Maybe I have multiple story lines too. Except for me, in the real one I do become sort of adult-like, my joints hurt and I long for the good old days when there was peace in the middle east, when Democrats and Republicans got along -- you know fictional.

Well, RIP Archie, whoever you are. Maybe your teenage self could come for a visit. We have a "Pops" here just like you do in Riverdale. We could get a burger and Grapette and you could explain to me why you can't just admit that Betty is the better girl for you. Today would be a great day to visit because it's July 16 and only 72 degrees.

Being Semelparous

A FEW MORNINGS AGO, ON MY WAY TO WORK, I heard a story on NPR® about a plant that I suddenly felt a kinship to. It's called an American Agave plant.

Kinship to a plant? Maybe all this Whole Foods® shopping, yoga, juicing and listening to NPR® is getting to me.

This plant is grayish and prickly--kind of like me. It's nickname is the Century plant, although it seldom lives that long. Correlation? I think it sounds good to live as if I could live a century, but I really have no desire to do so.

American Agave Plants

Here's the part that really intrigued me though: when it flowers, it has big, spectacular flowers that can reach up to 8 feet tall, or more. I like that! Here's the problem: it's semelparous!

I had to look that one up: "Semelparity and iteroparity refer to the reproductive strategy of an organism. A species is considered semelparous if it is characterized by a single reproductive episode before death, and iteroparous if it is characterized by multiple reproductive cycles over the course of its lifetime." --Wikipedia

In other words, after this plant finally does it big flowery production (which can take up to 50 years or more), it DIES--sort of a One Hit Wonder.

It started me thinking, you know, about living life. Would I prefer to be known for something big and then fade or flame out. Or would I rather be a guy that just sort of lives a good, consistent, generative life?

The Tour De France is on. I know, I saw about 5 seconds of it as I was clicking through the channels to see what else is on. I thought of Lance Armstrong. WOW! He was huge and spectacular before he got his pants caught in his chain, so to speak. Too much for fertilizer for that plant, if you get my meaning.

I don't want to be like Lance, or Lebron for that matter. But take a guy like Sheriff Andy Taylor. Andy never rose to anything but sheriff of Mayberry and Opie's dad, but in 30 minutes, once a week for many, many years, he re-humanized most everyone in Mayberry. Yes, I know he's fictional.

For me one of the biggest One Hit Wonders of my era was a song called, "Wipe Out" by The Safaris. I guess you could say it was a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts for The Safaris, because it was their only big hit. But what a hit it was. I am confident that every young drummer, like myself, who grew up in the 60s became a better drummer because of the hours of practice to learn the Wipe Out drum solo and develop the hand speed to play it. To this day, you play Wipe Out for an aspiring percussion student, and they will determine to learn that solo.

Which brings us back to the semelparous American Agave plant: don't feel too sorry for it, because, you see, it also produces little suckers, adventitious shoots from its base, which continue the legacy so to speak.

We have two sons, a daughter-in-law, three Grand-Girls. I am so proud and grateful for all these little "suckers", and thanks to them, I may burn out or wipe out, but I know I won't fizzle out.

Now do you see why I feel sort of kin to this plant? I haven't been drinking to much kale/wheatgrass/ginger juice.

Being POPS to Nora

Sometimes this blog/journal is literally "about Pops"--in other words, the role of a grandfather. Now, Nora Grace is here and I have a third opportunity to be Pops. So what does this look like?

What children need most are the essentials that grandparents provide in abundance: unconditional love, kindness, patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life. And, most importantly, cookies. --Rudy Giuliani

I really like the prayer for her daughter that Tina Fey wrote in her book, "Bossypants." I would like to include it here, but I don't have permission, and About POPS is a little on the conservative side of "PG" to include it. But you should check it out HERE. 

I will always pray for our grand-girls. And I will want the best for them; even if that spoils them a bit.

For you Nora, as for your big sisters, Karlee and Harper, I hope you will always know that your are loved, that you will know you are free to be curious and creative, so don't be afraid to color outside the lines; or better yet, draw your own. And while on the subject of the Arts, whether music, dance, drawing, painting, poetry, story-telling, or wood-carving, we will be there to encourage you always, because while school will take care of the math, science and sports; the Arts are pretty much up to you, but worth every minute.

Oh, and there will be boys. The three of you are blessed with your mother's beauty, so it's inevitable. So far, I've not seen a boy that deserves you, but we've got a lot of time for them to develop. Sometimes you have to find a good one and take him on as a project. Your mom and grandmother would probably say be cautious of drummers and preacher's kids. They do take extra patience and love, but they are worth it--some of the time. And, they mean well.

Karlee, 5-years old climbing at 30 feet.

Nora, I have no doubt you will have the bold, daring of your big sisters, so I will buy you your first helmet. Speaking of safety, I promise to always buckle you in to your car seat when traveling. Forgive me for the bad words I'll murmur under my breath when I can't get the dang thing buckled and unbuckled.

Be patient with your biggest sister. Those of us who are the first-born children tend to be wiser and could make your life better if you would only listen to us. So, at times, you'll think you have two mothers, but remember, Karlee just wants the best for you and she knows what that is.

Be patient with your next biggest sister. Harper is abdicating her seat as the baby of the family for you. She has served admirably and it's not an easy role to give up. But she is so much fun, and so full of energy and wide-eyed wonder, she will be a tireless friend for you.

You have two amazing parents. Give them a good 6 hours of sleep a night as soon as you can, and they will give you all of themselves.

Welcome to the Family, Nora!

Old people are distinguished by grandchildren; children take pride in their parents. --Proverbs 17:6 (The Message)

Circus Monkeys

Nie moj cyrk, Nie moje malpy.

I don't speak Polish, but I'm a sucker for a good Polish proverb. I ran this one through the Google® Translator and got this: "Not my circus, not my monkey."

So, I'm guessing the take-away in this proverb is: sometimes it's just not my problem. Or maybe the wisdom here is to quit trying to fix everything for everybody; accept your boundaries and limitations.

You have to be careful here though. You could easily become like one of those ugly, narcissistic characters in the Good Samaritan story, or one of those who think "denial is just a river in Egypt."

I bet I could print up a bunch of t-shirts with the "Not My Circus, Not My Monkey" proverb and sell them like hotcakes. I'll admit it--sometimes, too many times, I might as well be wearing one, because that's my attitude sometimes; too many times.

You've seen it, right? It looks kind of like this:

"It's their mess, let them clean it up."
"She made her bed, she can lie in it."
"I've got to look out for Number One."

I heard a guy say this one time and I wanted to reply, "You'd better look out for Number Two too, because if you step in it you're going to spell like, well, $#1T whether your dog's the one who dropped it or not.

Billy Joel wrote a song back in the 80s (yes, it was a low decade for music) where the lyrics were a litany of the famous, the infamous, and a sample of mankind's collective messes and milestones through the years. The chorus (and title) of the song is the equivalent of "not my circus, not my monkey".

It goes like this:

We Didn't Start The Fire

Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray,
South Pacific, Walter Winchell, Joe DiMaggio,
Joe McCarthy, Richard Nixon, Studebaker, Television,
North Korea, South Korea, Marilyn Monroe,

Chorus:
We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning

Rosenbergs, H-Bomb, Sugar Ray, Panmunjom,
Brando, The King And I, and The Catcher In The Rye,
Eisenhower, Vaccine, England's got a new queen,
Marciano, Liberace, Santayana goodbye,

Joseph Stalin, Malenkov, Nasser and Prokofiev,
Rockefeller, Campanella, Communist Bloc,
Roy Cohn, Juan Peron, Toscanini, Dacron,
Dien Bien Phu Falls, Rock Around the Clock,
Einstein, James Dean, Brooklyn's got a winning team,
Davy Crockett, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland,
Bardot, Budapest, Alabama, Khrushchev,
Princess Grace, Peyton Place, Trouble in the Suez,

Little Rock, Pasternak, Mickey Mantle, Kerouac,
Sputnik, Chou En-Lai, Bridge On The River Kwai,
Lebanon, Charles de Gaulle, California baseball,
Starkweather, Homicide, Children of Thalidomide,

Buddy Holly, Ben-Hur, Space Monkey, Mafia,
Hula Hoops, Castro, Edsel is a no-go,
U-2, Syngman Rhee, payola and Kennedy,
Chubby Checker, Psycho, Belgians in the Congo,

Hemingway, Eichmann, Stranger in a Strange Land,
Dylan, Berlin, Bay of Pigs invasion,
Lawrence of Arabia, British Beatlemania,
Ole Miss, John Glenn, Liston beats Patterson,

Pope Paul, Malcolm X, British Politician Sex,
J.F.K. blown away, what else do I have to say,

Birth control, Ho Chi Minh, Richard Nixon back again,
Moonshot, Woodstock, Watergate, punk rock,
Begin, Reagan, Palestine, Terror on the airline,
Ayatollah's in Iran, Russians in Afghanistan,
Wheel of Fortune, Sally Ride, heavy metal, suicide,
Foreign debts, homeless Vets, AIDS, Crack, Bernie Goetz,
Hypodermics on the shores, China's under martial law,
Rock and Roller Cola wars, I can't take it anymore.

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
But when we are gone
It will still burn on and on and on and on
And on and on and on and on...

Maybe this is our Circus and these are our Monkeys