Autumn

I LOVE AUTUMN. A few days ago, on the autumnal equinox (first day of fall), I thought I should write a post on About Pops about this amazing point in time. But then I remembered, I already had. It’s called Aequus Nox and you can read it by clicking this link.

Let me add this: another thing I love about fall is the return of favorite shows. “The Blacklist” is the one I’ve looked forward to most. It is spellbinding. Not only is it full of great story-telling, and rich characters, but it is one of those shows that make great use of music. Each episode ends with a song that is almost always new to me. The song is always apropos to the theme of the episode emotionally and sometimes lyrically. The song, along with the cliffhangers, pulls you forward, anticipating next Monday’s episode.

Last Monday, the first episode of the new season did not disappoint; at all. It was full of glimpses of the intrigue to come.

But, my favorite part was that final song. Thankfully I had recorded the program because I had to find my phone, rewind a bit, fire up “Shazam”, and purchase that song.

It’s a song by a group of youngsters that call themselves Ages And Ages. The song is called “Divisionary: Do the Right Thing.” Fortunately, NPR has already discovered this group, brought them in for a “Tiny Desk Concert” and posted it for us all to see, hear and enjoy.

There are several songs on this video. The “Divisionary” song is at the 3:50 mark. Watch them all, but watch this one for sure.

Straight From Growing Up to Growing Old

IF YOU TELL A WOMAN that Scientists at Newcastle University in the UK have discovered that girls tend to optimize brain connections earlier than boys; that the researchers concluded that this may explain why females generally mature faster in certain cognitive and emotional areas than males during childhood and adolescence*, the woman will likely say something like: "I could have told you that."

IF YOU TELL A MAN about that same research, he's likely to say something like: "Hey do you know why Helen Keller played the piano with only one hand?”

I’m not going to lie; sometimes the close personal scrutiny I put myself through as I reflect on my second-coming-of-age can be a bit painful. For example, it has dawned on me that in a lot of ways I have remained, well; immature. While it’s been years since I lit a fart on fire, to this day I would much rather sit in a public place making fun of other people than I would engage in deep talk about socio-political B.S over “senior” coffee with a bunch of old geezers at McDonalds.

Is that narcissistic of me? No. Not in the classical sense anyway—where poor old Narcissus became stuck in time when entranced by his own beauty upon seeing his reflection in a pool of water.

I’m not saying that I’ve grown past adolescent self-absorption. Nor, am I saying that I’ve grown up much at all. I’ve just grown older. Wiser too? The jury’s still out.

I love a good growing-up story.

So, about my chronic immaturity: Part of it I attribute to being a dude. Part of it comes from the fact that I’ve spent most of my working years with teenagers and young adults (and I treasure those years). Part of it comes from fear—the fear that once I step over the threshold and start having adult conversations about stuff like social security, medicare, obamacare, and who-gives-a-care; once I start feigning indignation over hilarious, slightly inappropriate jokes, and wearing socks with sandals… there will be no turning back.

I imagine that for most normal people, maturing is a process. But, somehow it seems to me to be like an Exit on a freeway. Like at some point I have to realize, I’m sixty-something and there are these big signs that are saying, “Last Chance! Take this Exit! Food, Gas, Restrooms, Moccasins, Cracker Barrel and Maturity.”

So what was Robert Frost really feeling when he wrote his defining poem:

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
By Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

If I could, I would sit down with Robert Frost over a Cafe Au Lait, or a pint of ale, and I would say something like, “So, Mr. Frost, it was like a fork-in-the-road experience for you too?” And then we would talk deeply about life and stuff.

And then I would say something like: “Talk about your life-defining stories, have you seen “Tommy Boy”?!

P.S.: Helen Keller played the piano with only one hand because she sang with the other one. (I know; I'm hopeless, but I think Helen herself would find that funny.)

*http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-athletes-way/201312/scientists-identify-why-girls-often-mature-faster-boys

Horse Then Cart

Let’s see if I’ve got this straight: horse, then the cart. Check.

In several posts on this blog, I’ve mentioned my longing for an Airstream trailer and the adventures I can see with my mind’s-eye. It’s like an itch that needs to be scratched. In one post, a year ago, I likened it, maybe over-dramatically, to a sort of siren’s call.

Also on this blog, I’ve recorded the fact that us Men of a Certain Age need a good hobby, or pastime; something that we can enjoy into our retirement years. At times I’ve felt some desperation in the fact that I don’t really have that; yet. Oh, I love hanging out with the Grand-Girls, in short bursts. Their energy level exceeds mine exponentially.

I like to read and write. I tried golf but it’s too expensive and makes me say really bad words; out loud.

I do love to travel, to see new things, to wander and wonder. It’s like Ellie said, in the wonderful movie, UP: “Adventure is out there!”

So, the dream of an Airstream is still alive and well and closer than ever before. But as my Amazing-Missus has lovingly pointed out to me several times: I tend to get my cart before my horse. The fact is that we’ve had neither horse nor cart. UNTIL NOW.

Yesterday we bought our horse, a new TV! That’s “tow vehicle” in nomad speak. After careful research, wailing and gnashing of teeth, we threw out a fleece, and went for it. Now we have a shiny, black Ford F150 Lariat with Ecoboost. This black beauty is rated at 9,000 GVWR. I’m not sure what that means but the chart says she will easily pull our Airstream (when we ever get one), me, Mimi, three Grand-Girls and all their MUST-haves: dolls, princesses, books, etc.

There she is: Our Black Beauty. We stopped by Elemental for a celebratory cup of coffee

I just finished reading, “The Power and The Glory” by Graham Greene. I highly recommend it. Towards the end of the book, Greene describes a man in the story this way: “He looked old and tired and bored—a man without a hobby.”

To all my friends of a Certain Age out there: let’s not be that guy.

P.S.: I highly recommend, If you’re shopping for a Ford for your adventure, go see Zack Thiel at England Ford in Hinton, Oklahoma. Zack is the antithesis of every stereotypical car salesman you could imagine. He very patiently walked with me through my always diligent and cautious and long process of making a big purchase. Thank you Zack. 

Labor Omnia Vincit

HAPPY LABOR DAY. Or, is it Merry Labor Day? Labor Day is a mystery, but I’m glad we have it.

For you in other lands who read About Pops, Labor Day was, best I can tell, a holiday set aside to celebrate the American worker. In Oklahoma, where I live, by creed we honor that sentiment perpetually. Our state’s motto is Labor Omnia Vincit. 

“It is a Latin phrase meaning "Work conquers all". The phrase is adapted from Virgil's Georgics, Book I, line 145-6: ...Labor omnia vicit / improbus ("Steady work overcame all things"). The poem was written in support of Augustus Caesar's "Back to the land" policy, aimed at encouraging more Romans to become farmers. Currently the state motto of the State of Oklahoma and incorporated into its state seal in 1907, the motto originally appeared on the territorial seal of Oklahoma Territory.” —Wikipedia.

My bro-in-law Art, travels extensively and unearths some of the coolest treasures. He could have his own TV show. Recently, he ran across a safety kit from Conoco Oil. Inside the kit was a safety manual. It was issued September 1, 1964. On Labor Day. Intentionally?

The manual is full of excellent safety guidance, like this: 

“Do not use compressed air to clean clothes. Never discharge compressed air onto other employees because serious injuries have resulted from such “horseplay” antics.”

Some of the guidance seems to be outdated, but it was probably the best available in 1964. Here, for example is the entire procedure to treat “Heart Stoppage”:

“Give closed heart massage (only if heart is stopped) and mouth to mouth respiration [sic].”

The thing I found most interesting about the Conoco safety manual was the Workman’s Creed printed on the back cover. I share it here, on this Labor Day, September 1, 2014, 50 years after its publication.

And the end is that the workman shall live to enjoy the fruits of his labor; that his mother shall have the comforts of his arm in her age; that his wife shall not be untimely a widow; that his children shall have a father; and that cripples and helpless wrecks who were once strong men shall not longer be a by-product of industry.” —P.B. Juhnke.

Not exactly the words I would have chosen, but what a beautiful, re-humanizing sentiment.

Labor Omnia Vincit