Category: Uncategorized

Our world is filled with technological wonders.

I have a device that fits in my hand and pocket and contains immediate access to all the discoveries, written histories and cultural achievements in the history of humanity.

Think about that for a second. It’s staggering.

We’ve landed men on the moon and robots on Mars. Modern medicine is on the verge of curing and preventing Alzheimer’s, cancer and genetic causes of heart disease.

But my home office printer is a spaz.

I have a powerful desktop computer that will whisk me off to faraway lands to enjoy the music and dancing of foreign cultures as they are actually happening. I can learn a new language and how to build or repair a house.

I can see and talk with friends I haven’t contacted in decades.

But my printer, a mere three feet away, can’t print a single page of text without sounding alarms and screaming out error messages. Each time it does we have to do a dance, my printer and I.

A few minutes ago I set the dance into motion by rebooting the printer, as usual. It has been clicking, clunking, whirring and spitting out blank pieces of paper since I started writing this. It shakes and clatters frantically, reminding me of the flailing arms of the robot in the original Lost In Space TV series of the sixties.

“Danger, Will Robinson!”

The app in the computer that contains my text source is ready to rock and roll, but the chunk of plastic next to me – which regularly reminds me I need to buy a new yellow cartridge to continue printing black ink – is still groaning and wheezing like a garbage truck.

What the hell is it doing?

I have a confession: I hear the clock.

I just turned 67. I feel fine, just got a clean bill of health in my annual checkup. I’m mentally alert and a whole lot wiser than I’ve ever been before.

But now I hear the steady tick-tick-tick I never noticed until quite recently.

The older I get the more excited I become by the life all around me. After fifty years of chasing career goals I’m close enough to the finish line now that I’m free of constant pressure to keep moving. I can sit down and look back with satisfaction. I can glance ahead with few wants and no expectations.

I enjoy my work more than ever because I’m not trying to go someplace else.

We’re always told to live in the present but you can’t get there until you get there.

Now I really do smell the coffee and the roses. I’m learning to let go of the nonsense and enjoy what’s left.

CarolAnn and I share the little things in our lives with more joy than ever. I’m embarrassed to admit I find myself paying the kind of detailed attention to our dogs that I should have paid to our kids when they were little. I tried, I really did, but there was always the background hum of things that needed to be achieved away from home. Now that’s finally gone.

I wish my boys could be boys again. They’d have more of me than I gave them 30 years ago. Still, they love me and they get it. I just didn’t know any better. I was being who I had to be at the time.

“Regret is just a memory written on my brow, and there’s nothing I can do about it now.” – Song written by Beth Nielsen Chapman, sung by Willie Nelson

But now there’s that damned clock. It doesn’t bother me because I fear death, it bothers me because I have so much I want to do yet and I sort of kick myself for not getting up to speed before now.

I know what you’re thinking and you’re right, what difference would it make? Each achievement would have simply brought a new idea. I’ll never finish as long as I can find things to excite me. I get that and I’m grateful.

None of us know how much time is left on the clock. When it stops we’ll be right in the middle of something important. So, here’s what I think:

At 67 achieving goals is less important than having them.

The world can be a brutal place especially for the very young and helpless. Occasionally such a life is delivered to us. We do what we can.

This baby bunny was taken from its nest in our yard by one of our beloved pets, probably Cora, the cat.

Cora is a predator. She can’t help it, she’s a cat.

There were two babies to begin with. One was convinced to drink kitten formula in CarolAnn’s hands. In this very short video you can hear us cooing and worrying as if we were its parents.

https://youtu.be/16GyvQWaLp8

When the feeding was finished the babies were put in a soft bed we made in a small box. The box was placed in our backyard flower garden with hope that the mother rabbit would retrieve them during the night. She did not. By the following morning one had died. CarolAnn took the other to a professional wildlife rescuer who specializes in rabbits.

Seems like a lot of effort to save a tiny wild animal, doesn’t it? Especially by people who routinely celebrate when our pets kill a rat in the same yard.

I can’t make sense of that. I just know I’m still worried about that bunny.

“He who can, does. He who cannot, teaches.”
— George Bernard Shaw, “Man and Superman”

Leave it to an ill-tempered playwright and social activist to intentionally twist the words of a master.

The original quote was:

“Those who know, do. Those that understand, teach.”
— Aristotle

BIG difference.

Today is National Teacher Appreciation Day / Week.

I’ve been out of school for nearly 50 years but there isn’t a single day in my life that I don’t remember at least one of my school teachers with deep gratitude and affection, not only for my education but for the inspiration that shaped the person I have become.

And, I like me.

Teachers have never been called upon to be and do more than they are today. We’ve gotten to a point where they’re not only asked to be educators and know something of child psychology, they also need to be part family counselor, part lawyer and in an increasing number of school districts and states, part law enforcement officers.

At the same time teachers still get a ton of grief from hyper-critical parents and local communities living in fear from an increasingly complex and violent world.

We’re scared and confused.

Regardless of our age we have always looked to teachers to make sense of our world and lead us in the right direction.

Work days for teachers usually begin before sunrise and never really end. They go home long after the class day is over to try to balance the needs of their families while correcting papers, making class schedules and answering emails from parents.

Teachers deserve more yet receive much less pay than most of us who have more forgiving and less demanding careers. They do it because they are passionate about their calling.

To teach is to create a better world one child at a time.

As we celebrate teachers we need to go beyond smiling and saying thanks. Ancient cultures revered teachers equal to spiritual leaders and healers. We need to get back to that level of appreciation and to provide teachers with the salaries and benefits they richly deserve.

Remember your teachers with love and gratitude, even the ones you didn’t like when you were just a dumb kid.

And thank your children’s teachers at every opportunity. They’re helping your kids create their world in ways you cannot.