My father never drove a car. Well, that's not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car.
He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet.
"In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your
hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through
life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it."
At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in: "Oh, bull----!" she said.
"He hit a horse."
"Well," my father said, "there was that, too."
So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars -- the Kollingses
next door had a green 1941 Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons
two doors down a black 1941 Ford -- but we had none.
My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines, would take the streetcar to work and, often as not,
walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the
three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.
My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask
how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother
would explain, and that was that. But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of
you boys turns 16, we'll get one." It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first.
But, sure enough, my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950
Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown. It was a
four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents
didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car.
Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my
mother. So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned
in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, and a
generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving.
The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember
him saying once.
For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she
nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps -- though they seldom left the
city limits -- and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work.
Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally
devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of
marriage. (Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.)
He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with
her the mile to St. Augustin's Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait
in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning.
If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end
of the service and walking her home. If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and
then head back to the church. He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow."
After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he
had no reason to go along. If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go
take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs
game on the radio.
In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second
base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored."
If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out -- and to make sure she
loaded up on ice cream. As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was
88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?"
"I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre.
"No left turns," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most
accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic. As you get
older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I
decided never again to make a left turn."
"What?" I said again.
"No left turns," he said. "Think about it. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot
safer. So we always make three rights."
"You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support.
"No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works." But then she added: "Except
when your father loses count."
I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing. "Loses count?"
I asked. "Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make
seven rights, and you're okay again."
I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked.
"No," he said. "If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing
in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week."
My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided
to quit driving. That was in 1999, when she was 90. She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died
the next year, at 102. They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years
later for $3,000. (Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny
bathroom -- the house had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower
cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.)
He continued to walk daily -- he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd
fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising -- and he was of sound mind and sound body until
the moment he died.
One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring
town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging
conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news. A few weeks earlier, he had told my
son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point
in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer."
"You're probably right," I said.
"Why would you say that?" He countered, somewhat irritated.
"Because you're 102 years old," I said.
"Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day.
That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night. He appreciated
it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: "I would like to make an
announcement. No one in this room is dead yet."
An hour or so later, he spoke his last words:
"I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And
I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have." A short time later, he died.
I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family
and I were so lucky that he lived so long.
I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life ... or because he quit making left turns.
No left turnes for all of you. Fred
REMEMBER RIGHT NOW:
Somebody is watching you.
Somebody is very proud of you.
Somebody is thinking of you.
Somebody is caring about you.
Somebody misses you.
Somebody wants you.
Somebody wants to talk to you.
Somebody wants to listen to you.
Somebody wants to be with you.
Somebody hopes you are not in trouble.
Somebody is thankful for the support you have provided.
Somebody wants to hold your hand.
Somebody remembers you, but will never see you again.
Somebody hopes everything turns out all right.
Somebody wants you to be happy.
Somebody wants you to find him/her.
Somebody wants to give you a gift.
Somebody wants to hug you.
Somebody wants to hold you.
Somebody thinks you ARE a gift.
Somebody admires your strength.
Somebody wants to protect you.
Somebody can't wait to see you again.
Somebody loves you for who you are.
Somebody treasures your spirit.
Somebody is glad that you are their friend.
Somebody wants to get to know you better.
Somebody wants to be near you.
Somebody wants you to know they are there for you.
Somebody would do anything for you.
Somebody wants to share their dreams with you.
Somebody is alive because of you.
Somebody needs your support.
Somebody needs you to have faith in them.
Somebody trusts you.
Somebody hears a song that reminds them of you.
How are a Texas Tornado and a Tennessee Divorce the same?
Someone's going to lose a trailer.
By the time a man realizes that may be his father was
right, he usually has a son who thinks he's wrong.
--- Charles Wadsworth
A philosophy professor stood before his class with some items in front of him. When the class began, without a word he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, each about 2" in diameter.
He then asked the students if the jar were full? They agreed that it was.
So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks.
He then asked the students again if the jar were full. They agreed it was.
The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He then asked once more if the jar were full. The students responded with an unanimous -- yes.
The professor then produced a bottle of red wine from under the table and proceeded to pour the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand.
The students laughed.
"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things -- your family, your partner, your health, your children -- things that if everything else were lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
"The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.
"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued "there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal.
"Take care of the rocks first -- the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest -- is just sand."
One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the wine represented.
The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a good bottle of wine.
Every man wants a wife who is beautiful, understanding, economical,a good cook, and great in bed.
But the law allows only one wife.
FINE - This is the word women use at the end of any argument that they feel they are right about, but need to shut you up. NEVER use fine to describe how a woman looks. This will cause you to have one of "those" arguments.
FIVE MINUTES - This is half an hour. It is equivalent to the five minutes that a football game will last before taking out the trash. Women consider this an even trade, so don't push your luck!
NOTHING - This means something and you should be on your toes. "Nothing" is usually used to describe the feeling a woman has of wanting to turn you inside out, upside down, and backwards. "Nothing" usually signifies an argument that will last "Five Minutes" and end with the word "Fine."
GO AHEAD (with raised eyebrows) - This is a dare. One that will result in a woman getting upset over "Nothing" and will end with the word "Fine."
GO AHEAD (normal eyebrows) - This means "I give up" or "do what you want because I don't care." You will get a raised eyebrow "Go Ahead" in just a few minutes, followed by "Nothing" and "Fine" and she will talk to you in about "Five Minutes" when she cools off.
LOUD SIGH - This is not actually a word, but is still often a verbal statement very misunderstood by men. A "Loud Sigh" means she thinks you are an idiot at that moment, and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you over "Nothing."
SOFT SIGH - Again, not a word, but a verbal statement. "Soft Sighs" are one of the few things that some men actually understand. She is content. Your best bet is to not move or even breathe and she will stay content.
THAT'S OKAY - This is one of the most dangerous statements that a woman can say to a man. "That's Okay" means that she wants to think long and hard before paying you retribution for whatever it is that you have done. "That's Okay" is often used with the word "Fine" and used in conjunction with a raised eyebrow "Go Ahead." At some point in the near when future she has plotted and planned, you are going to be in some mighty big trouble.
PLEASE DO - This is not a statement, it is an offer. A woman is giving you the chance to come up with whatever excuse or reason you have for doing whatever it is that you have done. You have a fair chance to tell the truth, so be careful and you shouldn't get a "That's Okay."
THANKS - A woman is thanking you. Do not faint, just say you're welcome.
1. Your house plants are alive, and you can't smoke any of them.
2. Having sex in a twin bed is out of the question.
3. You keep more food than beer in the fridge.
4. 6:00 AM is when you get up, not when you go to bed.
5. You hear your favorite song on an elevator.
6. You watch the Weather Channel.
7. Your friends marry and divorce instead of hook up and break up.
8. You go from 130 days of vacation time to 14.
9. Jeans and a sweater no longer qualify as "dressed up."
10. You're the one calling the police because those darn kids next door won't turn down the stereo.
11. Older relatives feel comfortable telling sex jokes around you.
12. You don't know what time Taco Bell closes anymore.
13. Your car insurance goes down and your payments go up.
14. You feed your dog Science Diet instead of McDonalds leftovers.
15. Sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt.
16. You no longer take naps from noon to 6 PM.
17. Dinner and a movie is the whole date instead of the beginning of one.
18. Eating a basket of chicken wings at 3 AM would severely upset, rather than settle, your stomach.
19. You go to the drug store for ibuprofen and antacid, not condoms and pregnancy tests.
20. A $4.00 bottle of wine is no longer "pretty good stuff."
21. You actually eat breakfast food at breakfast time.
22. "I just can't drink the way I used to," replaces, "I'm never going to drink that much again."
23. 90% of the time you spend in front of a computer is for real work.
24. You no longer drink at home to save money before going to a bar.
25. You read this entire list looking desperately for one sign that doesn't apply to you.
A man lies on his deathbed, surrounded by his family: a weeping wife and four children. Three of the children are tall, good looking and athletic; but, the fourth and youngest is an ugly runt. "Darling wife," the husband whispers, "assure me that the youngest child really is mine. I want to know the truth before I die, I will forgive you if ..." The wife gently interrupts him. "Yes, my dearest, absolutely, no question, I swear on my mother's grave that you are his father." The man then dies, happy. The wife mutters under her breath: "Thank God he didn't ask about the other three."
"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded." - Emerson
"Be who you are and say what you feel because the people who mind don't matter and the people who matter don't mind." - Dr. Seuss
A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?" Hands started going up.
He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this. He proceeded to crumple the $20 dollar bill up.
He then asked, "Who still wants it?" Still the hands were up in the air. Well, he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. "Now, who still wants it?" Still the hands went into the air.
My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20.
Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to those who LOVE you.
The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we know, but WHO WE ARE.
You are special - Don't EVER forget it." Count your blessings, not your problems. Never be afraid to try something new.
"Sometimes you just have to take the leap, and build your wings on the way down." - Kobi Yamada
People over 35 should be dead.
According to today's regulators and bureaucrats, those of us who were kids in the 30's, 40's, 50's, 60's, or even maybe the early 70's probably shouldn't have survived.
Our baby cribs were covered with bright colored lead-based paint.
We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets, and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets. (Not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.)
As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a pickup truck on a warm day was always a special treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle. Horrors!
We ate cupcakes, bread and butter, and drank soda pop with sugar in it, but we were never overweight because we were always outside playing.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle, and no one actually died from this.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then rode down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the street lights came on. No one was able to reach us all day. No cell phones. Unthinkable!
We did not have Playstations, Nintendo 64, X-Boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, video tape movies, surround sound, personal cell phones, personal computers, or Internet chat rooms.
We had friends! We went outside and found them.
We played dodge ball, and sometimes, the ball would really hurt.
We fell out of trees, got cut and broke bones and teeth, and there were no lawsuits from these accidents. They were accidents. No one was to blame but us. Remember accidents?
We had fights and punched each other and got black and blue and learned to get over it.
We made up games with sticks and tennis balls and ate worms, and although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes, nor did the worms live inside us forever.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's home and knocked on the door, or rang the bell or just walked in and talked to them.
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment.
Some students weren't as smart as others, so they failed a grade and were held back to repeat the same grade. Horrors! Tests were not adjusted for any reason. Our actions were our own. Consequences were expected.
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law. Imagine that!
This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers and problem solvers and inventors, ever.
The past 50 years has been an explosion of innovations and new ideas.
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all. And you're one of them!
Congratulations.
Pass this on to others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before lawyers and government regulated our lives, for our own good.
Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors doesn’t it?