Milestones

     Milestones are markers - usually made of large rocks or small boulders - that have been in use for centuries, they were carved with the name of a destination and told travelers how far they have to go or how far they have come.
     Life is similarly marked with milestones and recently I came upon and passed a big one. This was not the first milestone for me, like most people there have been many milestones in my life such as the first time I rode a bicycle, entered the first grade, left home at eighteen, got married, had kids and so on and so forth. Every new day in my life was a milestone, a first for me that could never again be duplicated, standing in the exact same spot at a later time would invoke new visions and bring about memories of the past and thoughts of what the future may hold.
     I never looked upon milestones as I do now, they were just natural occurring happenings that often passed unnoticed, after all certain things were expected to  happen bringing about a normal progression of my life cycle. Each day was like riding a merry-go-round, the shiny brass rings were not always in easy reach and some of them were tarnished so I would go around again in hopes of catching one that glittered. I have always thought myself to be an optimist, even bad days had good moments so when other people were dreading turning thirty or forty years old I found reasons to look forward to those times and if I had to polish the brass ring to make it shine-so be it.
     So now I have passed another milestone in my life, on May 5, 2017 I turned seventy years old. There were times in my youth that I told people I was going to live forever, now I feel like I have. I have become an old man, as my son recently pointed out, I have the body of an old man - my once muscled chest has dropped down to expand my waistline, there are a few dark hairs hiding among the grey ones but they won't last long and my skin has taken on the consistency worn leather lined with the wrinkles of a long life, the aches and pains are to numerous to mention here, they come and go with the changing of the weather. Yep I am old alright, as old as dirt, but I worked hard to get to this age and am proud to have made it.
     There is much in my life to look back on with pride and much to look forward to in the future. Kay recently told me I was a lucky man, indeed I think I am, I have family that I am proud of, grand children that look up to me and make me smile and Kay to walk beside me as we grow old together.
     I still ride that merry-go-round of life and still reach for the brass rings, I stand in the same spots of yesterday and wonder what tomorrow holds for me. I look down the road and see distant milestones and can't wait to reach them but if I should come to the last one and have to get off the merry-go-round at least I can say the ride was worth the price of the ticket.










 
   

The Birthday Boy

                                      

                                    The Birthday Boy

      It has been sometime since I have written anything in my blog and it has been even longer since I have written about my grandson Matthew Brooke Riggan. I can tell you that writing about Matthew is something I have had on my mind for some time but the excuses for not writing run a long gauntlet of variety from " I could never get around to it " all the way up to and including " I'm just not in the mood ". The trouble with these excuses is that most of them are true. It's just like calling my sister - I keep thinking about calling but it just doesn't happen that easily. I have to be in the mood, have to have something meaningful to say and the time to make it happen.  I have been busy these many months and I am sorry to say that I have let other things take up the time I should have used to visit with Matthew and MJ. All excuses aside now is the time to get busy with my writing.
     Over the past two years I have been privileged to watch as Matthew grew from an infant laying on his back blowing bubbles while his feet and arms pawed at nothing but the air above him  to a toddler who looks like a miniature football fullback. I got to tell you this kid came out of the womb and experienced an immediate growth spurt, after just a few short months in this world his skin was so tight he looked like a Sumo wrestler and he felt like he weighed as much too. He has grown a lot since then, he is not the chubby little baby Linda longed for so she could pinch his cheeks, he is taller and stocky and full of energy, out growing his clothes as fast as Mom  and Dad can buy more. At about 33 lbs. he weighs more than his four year old sister.
     I love the way he comes up to me when I see him, he walks up and looks up to me and starts talking in a language that only he can understand but then I reach down to pick him up and his words turn to actions that Grandpa's the world over know as he wraps his arms around my neck and hugs me tight. I know that some day he will be to big for me to pick up and he will even be too  big to give me a hug, by then I will probably be too decrepit to bend over much less pick him up so I will have to tell him how much I love him as I ruffle his hair.
     Matthew is everything a Grandfather wants in a Grandson, he is active, fearless, curious and loving. When he still wasn't quite 18 months he was climbing the ladder to the playground, I built for he and MJ, scaring the hell out of every body, giggling all the way to the top. He has a fascination with trains and Jeeps, ( every Jeep is " Dada's Jeep" ). I held him at the Statham Xmas parade and watched his excitement as a procession of decorated Jeeps ( about 40 of them ) passed by throwing candy to the kids, he would point and yell out Jeep. Some one taught him to give the thumbs up sign when things are good, you gotta imagine him with a mouth full of birthday cake, icing covering his mouth, chin and fingers when some one asks if the cake is good.
     I can't tell you how happy I was to hear him call me Grandpa, again he was not quite 18 months. Kay heard him before I did but when I picked him up and pointed to myself and asked him who I was his pronunciation was quite distinctive, now he will call out Grandpa when I walk in the door - life doesn't get much better, this is one of the reasons you look forward to getting old.
     Like most little tykes he tries out his wings often, I'm not always there to see it but thank you Facebook for all the pictures and reports that Marie and Danny post each day. One day Marie posted about him tumbling down the stairs, fortunately they were carpeted and all he got was the wind knocked out of him, Marie on the other hand wound up in cardiac arrest and at least five new grey hairs. The pictures on Facebook show him to have a neat round dot in the center of his forehead, no it is not where MJ wrote on him with a colored marker, seems he has a perpetual sore that hasn't healed because he won't stop scratching it.
     Today was Matthew's big day, he turns two years old tomorrow Feb. 5, 2017 but the 51st Superbowl is tomorrow and the Atlanta Falcons are playing. I like to think that his birthday was celebrated a day early because it is easier to get families together on a Saturday than a Sunday which is probably true but I think another motive is that this is SUPERBOWL SUNDAY  and all adult eyes will be glued to the big screen TV watching clips from past Superbowl's, studying the pregame shows for statistics which could result in not only predicting the winner but also the final score, knowing my son this is a real possibility. It is also possible that the kids bedtime may be moved up so as not to interfere with the start time of the game.
     None of the above seemed to bother Matthew at all, when Kay and I arrived the party was in full swing and it only got bigger and better from there. Birthday boy was happy to see us and I got my hugs and kisses from he and MJ then it was play time. There were toys all over the place and yet not a present had been opened, these kids have enough toys to open their own toy store. Danny and Marie are blessed with friends - several of whom are life long - and they all were there with their own kids, spouses and most importantly gifts.
     I did mention that Matthew was hot for trains, he already had several that had been given to him for Xmas or just because. He had Thomas the Train trains in a couple of different sizes as well as a smaller train that ran on a wooden track and two other wooden trains one of which I made for him. You would think that many trains would be enough but that was not to be. I think I counted another four or five  Thomas train sets and two sets of wooden train tracks that were given to him today plus a couple of other toys, several books for reading / coloring and several articles of clothing which did not impress Matthew to much ( I didn't like getting clothes for my birthday either ).
     This was your day Matthew and from where I sat you had lots of fun, can't wait till next year. Actually I can't wait till the next time I see him and find out what changes he has gone through.
     It was a good day to be a Grandpa, it is one thing to be a Dad and experience your child's birthday and growth spurts but I have found that being a Grandpa is definitely better. I don't quite know how to put it but holding , watching and playing with my Grandchildren is an experience all in it's own. I hope to be around a few more years, it would be great to see Matthew and MJ grow into young adults.
   
 




   

Boogs Bear

                                                             Boogs Bear






     When the boys were still babies and for no reason other than it was a cute idea, Linda and I gave the boys nicknames and rather than call them by their given name we called them by the special moniker we bestowed on them. Never once did we imagine the names would stick and long term repercussions were never a consideration.
      Being the first born, Danny was given what I thought was a classy name mostly because I was the one who decided what to call him, although Danny was and is a perfectly good name for a boy I felt he needed something more fitting of his nature. Linda was concerned that I would call him by the traditional southern name of " Bubba ", now as far as I know there has never been a Bubba in the family and I honestly hope there never will be. After thinking long and hard and watching his demeanor for signs of greatness I started calling him "Hotshot", this was a name that fit, it was a name that would follow him into manhood and beyond but more importantly it was agreeable to Linda, there fore he has since been known to family and a few friends as Hotshot. This many years later I will occasionally blurt out "Hotshot" without thinking while talking to him but I don't think he minds.
     When Clay came along I quickly realized that he stole Linda's heart in many ways,mostly because he was her baby - the youngest and last of her brood. While we both had always promised to never show favoritism it was hard for Linda not to as mothers and the baby of the family have a special bond and Clay was the baby.
     Linda had a habit of singing, for her it was a means of coping with life, she sang when she was happy and she sang when she was sad. She sang quite often and she knew the words to hundreds of songs which she sang beautifully but every now and then she would make up her own words. It was while she was making up words one day that she settled on a nickname for Clay and from then on he was referred to as her "Boogs Bear". I never did know what a Boogs Bear was and have doubts that she did but Boogs Bear stuck.
     Clay never seemed to mind his nickname and it was not long before every one knew of it and the women especially would pick him up, pinch his cheeks and call him Boogs Bear. One day while watching the two boys I screwed up and called Clay - Hotshot - which of course was Danny's nickname, Clay quickly corrected me saying " I'm not Hotshot Dad, Danny is Hotshot, I'm Boogs Bear ". Clay's nickname was not one that followed him around all that long, I mean what self respecting young boy wanted to be called Boogs Bear once he started school. It wasn't long before only Linda and Eileen would call him by his nickname.
     As I said earlier Clay always held a special place in Linda's heart and during her final days she talked about her concerns for him and how she wished for him to be happy and have someone to love. Knowing that Clay and Maggie were together as a couple and would some day marry I assured her that she need not worry about Clay, he would be alright.
     Last Saturday - October 1, 2016 - I along with family and friends watched with pride as Clay and Maggie held hands and repeated the words of their wedding vows to one another. It was a beautiful wedding that was held at a cabin in the Blue Ridge mountains of Georgia, everything went off without too much of a hitch.
     As I watched them, a lifetime of memories flooded my heart, as I slowly wiped away tears that crept down my cheeks I could see Clay as Linda held him in her arms and smiled as she called him her Boogs Bear. I was sad but happy at the same time.
     I remarried a few months ago, Kay is a wonderful woman and we are a good fit. One of the areas we have yet to come together on is religion, I never was much for religion and have doubts about what or who to believe in. Kay on the other hand is a professed born again Baptist. We have had a few discussions about the subject and I understand that she tells people I am her work in progress, who knows one day she may bring me into the fold - she does say that God works in strange ways.
     One thing that I like to think may be true is that Linda, like Kay's husband Wayne, is in a better place and is watching over us. I like to believe that Linda was there watching as her Boogs Bear got married, I know she would be smiling and happy for him.
   
   

And Don't Forget Boone

                                             And Don't Forget Boone




     Getting married again has brought on a whole new set of issues to make one think. For instance, when getting married a second time around to someone who also is marring for the second time means that you most likely will inherit some more baggage - hopefully all good.
     Combining two households can be exciting to say the least. It took four days to go thru two storage sheds and we now have a combined five spade tip shovels, three post hole diggers, five ladders of various lengths, two riding lawn mowers, one push mower, two weed eaters and a chain saw. The kitchen has us bulging with enough Tupperware for our own Tupperware party not to mention four set of china, three sets of silverware and enough assorted pots and pans to open a restaurant.
     When I married Kay not only did my family increase so did my base of friends - any friend of Kay's is now a friend of mine and boy does she have a lot of friends. Kay was born and raised in the Gainesville, Ga. area and later moved to Oconee county where she has been living for about 35 yrs. and where she met and married her husband Wayne Bullock who was a native of Oconee county.
     Let's start out with where she worked in the finance office for the county,there has to be at least 25 - 30 people who have known her for about 15 years and they all call her a good friend. Then there was the distant relative working at Lowe's and another friend who checked us out, while walking at the mall we were hailed by a lady she knew but hadn't seen in some time. Then there were the neighbors and the real estate agent who is selling her house and her daughter's friend and mother who happened to stop by one day. I jokingly asked if there was some place we could go in Oconee county that she didn't know someone, turns out she would have a problem of not running across someone in four surrounding counties. Did I mention that she knows the lady who takes your money at the landfill ?  Oh and the gang she has dinner with the first Monday of the month. I lost count somewhere around 45 - 50.
     Now as for family I gained three brothers - Doug, Bob and Rick, two of them are now my little brothers and I now have the older brother I always wanted if I can only remember which one he is, I know it's either Bob or Rick. They tried to scare me off the first time we met but with Kay by my side I feared not. I am working on their wives names and hope to have them in the proper sequence soon.
      I have met one niece and four of her seven kids, nice family and understand there are more nieces / nephews still out there. I even met Wayne's uncle Mont who owns the property next door, I liked him.
     I also gained a daughter, Katie, actually I am her step father and proud of it, she is beautiful and has a wonderful family. I guess this makes her husband Nathan my step son-in-law. Katie and Nathan have a son Benjamin who is 4 1/2 and a daughter Abigail 20 months, they know me as "Mr. Mike" and to avoid any confusion on their part I will proudly wear the name. Once you get to know her Abigail gives great hugs and kisses.
     According to Facebook there is a whole host of friends, relations and friends of relations yet to meet, with my on coming bout with dementia which may strike at any moment I am going to be in serious trouble, I'll probably be better off if Kay would draw me a family tree.
     What it all boils down to is that I am happy to be a part of Kay's life which includes her family and host of friends, whether I am an in-law, friend, step dad or uncle or just plain"Mr. Mike".

     Oh, don't forget Boone a black and tan coon hound who snores in his sleep and likes peanut butter, he is my new step dog. .
   

One More Time

                                                            One More Time


     In the last months before passing, Linda told me that I should find a new wife, specifically one who liked to fish. I couldn't, at that time, imagine life without Linda and having been married to her for forty seven years I was sort of spoiled and doubted that there may be someone else I would want beside me.
     The first few months after she passed were the most difficult of my life, I was alright during the daytime when I could mingle with people then the darkness fell and I had to come home to a house filled with the silence and memories of a life that no longer existed.
     After a few months I realized that I was going to need help to get thru this next phase so I started seeing a therapist who guided me thru the darkness, she in turn placed me with a group of people who were walking down the same path. We as a group soon found that by sharing our stories of grief with each other we were in effect helping each other to heal our broken hearts. The group session was intense and short lived, after nine weeks we had learned how to live with our feelings but more importantly we realized that we wanted to remain together as a group, we had become very close with each other and now thought of ourselves as a family.
     We decided to continue with our own form of therapy so we set aside the first Tuesday of each month as a time when we would gather for lunch. There were nine of us to start, two men and seven women ranging in age from somewhere in the late eighties down to the early sixties. We have been meeting like this for just over a year now, one lady has dropped out but the rest of us have found that we do not want to miss a luncheon.
     One of the ladies, by the name of Kay, was the appointed reservationist, she would make all the reservations with the restaurant and e-mail us as to the time and date. Having not heard from Kay about an upcoming date I called her one night, we talked for sometime and I told her I needed a friend, we made plans to go to dinner a few days later. Each of us made it clear that we were not looking for romance, we were still mourning the loss of our spouses, the pain was still fresh in our minds, we both felt that we had already been in love with the best person in the world so there could be no one else for us. What we needed was someone to talk to of the opposite sex as each of us had for years been able sit down and talk with our spouses about anything. Now we were missing that voice opposite of ours, Kay had girl friends and I had guy friends but neither of us had friends of the opposite sex and it was something we were missing, I can't explain it any better.
     We went to dinner and as we ate we talked, when the waitress started giving us strange looks we left and went to visit a Veterans Memorial Park nearby where we sat watching the lightning flashes in the distant clouds, we talked for hours and parted company about one in the morning. Our friendship continued and over the next months we went on day trips together, sometimes just us and other times with another couple from the group. We had dinners together and watched movies and we talked for hours on end, our talks would at times invoke strong memories that would make us tear up and even cry, then we comforted each other.
     One night, after almost six months, we were driving home from visiting another couple from the group. Kay was holding my hand as I drove and I felt that we were evolving as a couple and this was a little scary for me,I asked her if she too thought we were moving to the next level. The thing that scared me most about falling in love with Kay was that I was older than she by several years therefore I would probably be the first to die and then she would have to relive the last couple of years all over again, I didn't want to be the one to break her heart for a second time. A few days later we had dinner and we talked about the future, we discovered that we needed each other, we looked forward with anticipation to our next date and didn't want to part at the end of the night. My fears were still there but Kay made me realize that life is uncertain and anything can happen. Kay retired from her job in January and things started getting more serious, at first we talked about moving in together, selling houses. It wasn't long until we talked of getting married.
     After we talked with our respective families telling them how we felt and what we were going to do we got a license and stood before a judge,who was a friend of Kay's, and said our vows on April 18, 2016. Kay Kiser Bullock now walks beside me as Mrs. Michael Riggan.
     There are times when we can still break down and cry about the love we had and lost, these feelings may never go away. Kay can not replace Linda and I can not replace her husband Wayne, neither of us wants that, we do want to live and love again and I think Linda and Wayne would be OK with that. I will always love and miss Linda just as Kay will always love and miss Wayne, they are a part of us forever.
     Linda told me in her last months that one of the reasons she married me was that I told her I only wanted to marry once, a lovely thought but not completely practical as life has a way of screwing things up. Turns out she knew me better than I thought, I need someone to love and take care of and someone to love and take care of me. Kay is that person and together we will make more memories for another lifetime while holding on to the memories of the past.

   
   
   

The Voice Of An Angel

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                                The Voice Of An Angel




     There have been people who claim to have heard the Angels sing and what a beautiful sound they made. I can't tell you that I have heard Angels sing but I can say that I have heard the voice of an Angel.
     Everyday for forty seven years I listened as Linda sang her songs and she knew a lot of  them. She sang along with the radio, she sang along with the CD's as she sewed, she sang as she sat on the back deck watching the birds and squirrels play. Linda was always singing and if she couldn't remember the words she would make them up but the important thing was that she had the voice to carry the tune - the voice of an Angel.
     When we first met, Linda was just seventeen, the Beatles, Elvis, the Mamma's and Pappa's , Simon and Garfunkel and many other great groups were constantly on the radio with their latest hit song and every teenage girl knew the words to all of them, Linda was no exception. As it turns out she came from a musical family, her mother played the guitar by ear as did her sister Eileen, she had several aunts and uncles - on her mothers side - who also played musical instruments and sang. Her mother once played on the radio in upstate New York with her two sisters when they were teens. Linda for some reason was the odd man out as she didn't play an instrument but she could read music which was something that her mother and Eileen couldn't do and she could sing. Years later I paid for her to take lessons on the guitar and she did OK but for some reason her heart was never in it, I think in part she never felt she would be as good as Eileen but she tried until kids started coming along.
     When ever she got together with her Mom and Eileen, the guitars would come out and the singing would commence, Mom would last till about 11:00 pm, I would make it till maybe 2:00 am but Linda and Eileen would go all night. Eileen had a beautiful voice in her own right and when coupled with Linda's the harmony was as good or even better than what was on the radio. The few songs they couldn't remember were written down in a note book that was laid out in front of them as they sat cross legged in the floor singing, giggling and laughing. Many years later Eileen made a cassette tape for her, it had all of the songs they would sing together, she would play the cassette over and over singing along with Eileen for hours. Sadly the cassette or the player wore out and has been lost.
     It seemed that for many years the music didn't change all that much, bands broke apart, new bands came about but the music of our youth seemed to grow along with us and there were the musicals like the Sound of Music and Mary Poppins. The music we grew up with became known as the "OLDIES " and everywhere we went we could find an Oldies station. I can't tell you when but I think it was sometime in the late 90"s that the local oldies station would only play the top 40 tunes, it was about that time that Linda started listening to Country music.
     Country music tells a story, it can make you laugh or cry, clap your hands and tap your feet to the rhythm, it is the mother of all music, I think it reminded her of the songs her mother used to sing. Country music was from a time long forgotten, it was her break from reality, a part of the beauty of her life. Every day she would sing sometimes to the artist on the radio or CD, sometimes to herself from memory, she didn't need a TV to occupy her mind, her music was already there.
      Linda prized the vocal ability of the artist almost as much as the songs they sang, Julie Andrews and Dolly Parton were two of her favorites. One of Linda's favorite country artist was Garth Brooks, I recently heard him on the radio singing " If Tomorrow Never Comes ", the rest of the lyrics go " will she know how much I loved her ". I had heard the song many times before but I never really listened to it, now that I have, it makes me glad of all the times I told her how much I loved her and of all the times I held her tight and kissed her, I can only hope it was enough.
     No, I never heard the Angels sing but once upon a time my world resonated with the voice of an Angel, now I listen to the radio in the truck as I drive around knowing that this is as good as it will ever be again, and I am sad.
     

   

A Question Of Why

                                  A Question Of Why





     The brain of a young child develops by watching and listening to the world around them, then as they learn to vocalize they ask questions and as any parent can tell you their questions can sometimes drive you nuts especially when the answer you give them prompts them to come back with that annoying question " WHY ", it makes no difference how you answer the " why " question as nine out of ten times they will come back with another " why ". Questions like these give a whole new meaning to the word - infinity, answering the question "why is the sky blue" could generate at least a dozen "why's" and take hours to answer.
     The word "why" is somewhat of an enigma, according to Websters dictionary it is a multi use word that can be used as a noun, adverb, conjunction, an interjection and if you add an "s" to the end it becomes plural. It can express sorrow, excitement, laughter and fear, it can cast doubt and guide one down the right path. For the moment I can't think of another word that has such a wide range, my learned sister Vickie probably can. But let's look at this another way, just because we grow into adulthood does not mean that we no longer seek knowledge nor do we no longer question the status quo, nay the search continues. Even from the depths of old and decrepit brain cells a question mark can still arise, just not as often.  Maybe because by a certain age we have more time on our hands to ponder the little nuances that have troubled our thoughts for years that we attempt to solve the woe's of the world, and "why" not, it may be our last chance for greatness.
     Take for example something that has troubled me since learning to spell in grade school. The word Wednesday, this word represents the middle day of the week and to my knowledge has no other meaning but I want to know "why" there are two " d's " in the spelling when everybody pronounces the word " Wensday " with one "d" . I can't tell you how many times I have misspelled this word, I even looked at my calendar prior to this writing just to be sure I was getting it right. Words with silent letters have always confused me as my mind keeps asking if that letter is silent "why" then is it there at all, the answer I give my mind is "why, how should I know", nobody else seems to know "why" either, I have asked.  Fortunately this newest generation doesn't have to worry about spelling, they just have to know where the spell check button is although if you follow social media it is obvious some people have yet to find the spell check button.
      Us old folks already know all the answers so we don't ask "why" too often and when we do we are skeptical about the answer we are given. Our memory, which at times trails behind us like a long shadow, doesn't always correspond with the information given to us so we like to mull things over for a while  so we don't come off as some senile old person with drool running down our cheek. So here I am an old fart with time on my hands to ponder the little mysteries of life and ask " why " along the way. Truth be known I really don't care what the answer might be as I am too old to worry about being right or wrong but when you have time on your hands you have to think about something. Then again if enough thought is put into the right pondering I might just have my 15 minutes of fame, if I come up with an answer the world has been waiting for.
     One such thought provoking subject is water, I have heard about the world wide water shortage for years and how it will eventually be a bigger concern than the oil shortage. Now standing on the banks of a river watching water flow by knowing that it's destination is the ocean makes me scratch my head especially when it is the mighty Mississippi River who's banks I have stood on, millions of gallons flow by in the time it takes to blow your nose. This is a moment when I brainstorm and think about the Alaskan pipe line which pumps crude oil from the north slopes over mountain ranges to the gulf of Alaska and then down here in the lower 48 we buried pipe lines to pump gas all over the country. Seem to me the answer is obvious " why " can't we build a pipeline to carry water from the Mississippi River to say Phoenix, AZ.or for that matter pump water from the Nile River into the deep Saharan Desert, "why" let it pour into the ocean. There we go problem solved and it didn't take a rocket scientist - not bad for an old guy.
     The next thought provoking subject is - neckties. Many years ago Linda and I worked for banks, the jobs didn't pay all that much but there was a lot of prestige in working for a bank, any way Linda would go to work nicely dressed in a skirt, blouse and matching jacket all of which was very comfortable as well as pleasing to the eye. I on the other hand had to wear a suit and tie, often with a vest, a combination known as a three piece suit. The suits were usually dark colored with white shirts - bankers never wore colored shirts - the only piece that really stood out was the neck tie but they too  had to be reserved and appropriate for banking.  I can't complain about the dress code because I did look very handsome, if I do say so myself, but the thing that bothered me and many others like me was the need to wear a neck tie at all. It was difficult to get a shirt that fit correctly around the neck - usually to tight - and then have to tie a strip of cloth around your neck and cinch it tight, I felt sorry for those guys with large Adams Apples. Neck ties were uncomfortable, they were always in the way and when eating usually wound up speckled with bits of the meal. So I ask you, "why" would a man in his right mind want to truss himself up in a three piece suit and neck tie every day ? You know it is rumored that the neck tie was invented by a woman with a strong desire to choke the living daylights out of her husband or maybe it was her boyfriend or both.
     So now comes the question of  "why" are neck ties necessary other than prestige and good looks. I would think that men would definitely be more comfortable and the appearance of success and prestige could more confidently be expressed by a man dressed in slacks, an opened collared shirt and tweed sport coat. Add a Florida tan and a couple of gold chains around his neck and you have a banker though some may refer to him as a shyster - same difference.
     One thing I have come to realize since I have become a senior citizen is that time does not pass at the same rate of speed as it did when I was a kid, seems that as I got older and slower father time kicked things into a higher gear. Remember being a kid waiting for Christmas to come around and it did ever so slowly. Forget the fact that it only came once a year, those first eleven months flew by in comparison to the last twenty five days filled with excruciating hours of having to be good all the time. As I write this, Christmas is only eight days away and I am still not ready for it, it gets here too quickly now days.
      "Why" does time pass differently for the young than it does for the elderly ? I distinctly remember when I was young, I couldn't wait to be older so I could do all the things I wanted without having to ask permission or have to be home by a certain time. No matter how hard I tried it took a long time for those first eighteen years to pass. Now I am pushing seventy and there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything I want to do, seems like I no sooner get out of bed and it's time to get back in it. "Why" it was only six years ago that I retired and three years ago that I became a Grandpa,  in my mind those days were yesterday. So much has happened in such a short amount of time that I want to plug the hole in the hour glass to slow the sands, I want to enjoy the fruits of my life but the time seems to pass too quickly.
      Now I am asking myself  "why" am I not spending more time with the Grand Kids or "why" am I not on the lake fishing. After all I am getting to old to be worrying about things that have never changed and most likely never will, let the next generation scratch their head and ask "why" and when Michaela  or Matthew ask why the sky is blue I'm going to send them to Mom or Dad and maybe, just maybe, they will be the ones that turn the world around - "why" not ?