Our Life's Reflections...
Life is about reflections... memories of fun times and bad times that
form our lives. Sometimes in our subconscious we have an idyllic vision.
We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by
train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on
nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a
distant hillside, of row upon row of corn and wheat fields, of flat lands and
valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a
certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing, flags will be
waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true and all the
pieces of our lives will just fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How
restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting and
waiting for the station. "When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry.
"When I'm 18", "When I buy the new 450SL Mercedes", "When I put my last kid
through college", "When I pay off the mortgage", "When I retire, I shall live
happily ever after!"
Sooner or later we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly out-distances us. It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today. ("The Station" by Robert J. Hastings )
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the minutes, instead climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along, the station will come soon enough. .
IF YOU WERE BORN IN THE
'50s... THINK ABOUT THIS
We are survivors... consider
the changes we have witnessed!! We were born before: television,
penicillin, polio shots, frozen foods, Xerox, plastic, contact lenses, Frisbees,
and the PILL. We were here before: radar, credit cards, split atoms, laser
beams, and ballpoint pens. We were before: pantyhose, dishwashers, clothes
dryers, electric blankets, air conditioners, drip-dry clothes... and before man
walked on the moon.
We got married first... THEN lived together (How quaint can you be?). In our time, closets were for clothes... not for coming out of. Bunnies were small rabbits... and were not girls nor Volkswagens. DESIGNER JEANS were scheming girls named Jean, and having a MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIP meant getting along with our cousins.
We thought FAST FOOD was the food you ate during Lent, and OUTER SPACE was the back of the Roxy Theater. We were before: house husbands, gay rights, dual careers, computer dating, and commuter marriages. We were before: day-care centers, group therapy and nursing homes. We never heard of FM Radio, tape decks, CDs, personal computers, artificial hearts, yogurt and guys wearing earrings. For us, time-sharing meant togetherness... not computers or condominiums. A chip meant a piece of wood... hardware meant hardware, and software wasn't even a word.
Back then, MADE IN JAPAN meant junk and the term MAKING OUT referred to how you did on your exam. Pizzas, McDonalds and instant coffees or instant anything were unheard of. We hit the scene when there were 5 & 10 cent stores, where you really bought things for FIVE and TEN CENTS. Sanders or Wilsons sold ice cream cones for a nickel or a dime. For one nickel in fact you could: ride a street car, make a phone call, buy a Pepsi, or enough stamps to mail one letter AND two Postcards. You could buy a Chevy Coupe for $600... but who could afford one? A pity too, because gas was only 11 cents a gallon.
In our day, GRASS was mowed, COKE was a cold drink, and POT was something you cooked in. ROCK MUSIC was Grandma's lullaby, and AIDS were helpers in the Principal's office.
We were certainly not before the difference between the sexes was discovered, but we were surely before the sex change. We made do with what we had. And we were the last generation that was so dumb as to think you needed a husband to have a baby.
No wonder we are so confused and there is such a generation gap today!!
But we survived... what better reason to celebrate.
AND IF YOU HAVE HAD CHILDREN... THINK ABOUT THIS!
Childless couples become so selfish and wrapped up in their own concerns, you feel sorry for them. They don't fight over the kids' discipline. They miss all the fun of "doing without" for the child's sake. It's a pathetic sight.
Everyone should have children. No one should be allowed to escape the wonderful experiences attached to each stage in the development of the young. The happy memories of those early years - saturated mattresses, waiting for sitters who don't show, midnight asthma attacks, rushing to the emergency room of the hospital to get the kid's head stitched up.
Then comes the payoff - when the child grows from a little acorn into a real nut. What can equal the warm smile of a small lad with the sun glittering on $1,500 worth of braces - ruined by peanut brittle - or the frolicking, carefree voices of 20 hysterical savages running amok at a birthday party?
How sad not to have children to brighten your cocktail parties - massaging potato chips into the rug and wrestling with guests for the olives in their martinis.
How empty is the home without challenging problems that make for a well rounded life - and an early breakdown: the end-of-day report from Mother, related like strategically placed blows to the temple; the tender, thoughtful discussions when the report card reveals that your senior son is a moron.
Children are worth every moment of anxiety, every sacrifice. You know it the first time you take your son hunting. He didn't mean to shoot you in the leg. Remember how he cried? How sorry he was? So disappointed you weren't a deer. Those are the memories a man treasures.
Think back to that night of the romantic adventure, when your budding, beautiful daughter eloped with the village idiot. What childless couple ever shares in such a wonderful growing experience? Could woman without children equal the strength and heroism of your wife when she tried to fling herself out of the bedroom window? Only a father could have the courage to stand by - ready to jump after her.
The childless couple lives in a vacuum. They try to fill their lonely lives with dinner dates, theater, golf, tennis, swimming, civic affairs and trips all over the world.
The emptiness of life without children is indescribable! See what the years have done. He looks boyish, unlined and rested. She is slim, well-groomed and youthful. It isn't natural. If they had kids, they'd look like the rest of us - tired, gray, wrinkled and haggard. In other words, normal.
A RESPONSE TO AN INSURANCE
COMPANY...
PRETTY FUNNY!
"TRYING
TO DO THE JOB ALONE"
( A response to an insurance company )
..... I am writing in response to your request for additional information. In Block #8 of the accident form, I put "trying to do the job alone" as the cause of my accident.
You said in your letter that I should explain more fully, and I trust that the following details will be sufficient.....
I am a bricklayer by trade. On the date of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a six story building. When I completed my work, I found that I had about 500 pounds of brick left over. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley which fortunately was attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out, and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it lightly to insure a slow decent of the 500 lbs. of brick.
You will note in block #11 of the accident report that I weigh 135 lbs.
Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rather rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming down. This explains the fractured skull, and broken collar bone. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley. Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind, and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of the pain.
At approximately the same time however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground, and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel then weighed approximately 50 lbs. I refer you again to my weight in block #11.
As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, and the lacerations of my legs, and lower body area.
The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell on the pile of bricks, and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.
I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the bricks, in pain, unable to stand, and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my presence of mind and let go of the rope. The barrel weighed more than the rope, so it came back down on me, and broke both my legs.
I sincerely hope I have furnished the information you have requested.......