I think I've mentioned this before, the old adage about why we humans evolved with two ears and one mouth. Prehistoric cave dwellers would hear the threat that's coming to eat them, then yell "Look out!" to their neighbor. Listening could save a life. Listening, real listening, seems to have faded. The recent election and Facebook posts pretty well confirm that. People no longer want to hear your opinion, even if they ask. They want to hear their opinion coming out of your mouth. I can't take credit for that bit of wisdom. And these days one can always find a source to back up their opinion. From then on, it's fact. I think I've said this before. It sounds familiar.
I'm turning sixty nine this month. My grandfather died when he was sixty nine. That's the first death I can really remember. I was eight. I remember the sweet smell of the funeral home and my grandmother's uncontrolled sobs. I remember the post funeral get together at our home in Plainfield, NJ and, for the first time, seeing my mother cry. It was a sudden death. Grandpa said he felt a lump in his chest and was going to lay down. He asked my grandmother to call the doctor. His last words were, "Someone could die without a doctor." Gram went in to check on him and he was gone. Not a bad way to go, I guess.
I read a statistic that said one hundred and fifty thousand people die on the planet each day. Three hundred thousand are born every day, give or take. Turn, Turn, Turn. I guess when I was younger my parents and grandparents contemporaries dying just didn't impact me much. They were old. They're supposed to die. Right? But now it's getting closer and closer to home. People that have been around most or all of my life are checking out. Some older...some younger. Most recently, Hammerin' Hank Aaron, the home run king and two of TV's finest, Cloris Leachman and "Screech." And, in the last few years, some best friends. On the flip side, there's been some new additions to the family. The circle of life. We're given that segment of time in life where we can really shine if we choose to. Some segments, like athletics, are shorter than others. "The saddest words of voice or pen, are those that say, what might have been." On the other hand, thinking you've given something you're best shot, whatever the outcome, is as good as it gets.
In my book, Beyond The Red Barn, I recount a life after life experience that I may....or may not, have had. An article that I read on the internet (so it must be true), says it's been established that the brain lives on for an extended period after the body is clinically dead. So are all these NDE's merely dreams, hallucinations, the brain's way of giving us a grand send off? I choose to think not. They seem very real to the recipients. But they did come back. They didn't really, finally die. I, probably like you, have wondered, where were we for the billions and billions of millenia before we were born? Maybe we're just not supposed to remember? Where will we be millenia from now after our sun dies out and our solar system and finally, our universe, follows suit? Lots of theories out there. Pick yer' poison.
The pandemic's given me plenty of time to think, to meditate, on these grand questions. But also the smaller questions. Why would anyone hire the Three Stooges to rewire their home? C'mon, man. They've gotta see that one comin'. I try to shut down every day for awhile; shut the TV off, shut the radio off and just think. Or not. Just stare. You'll eventually wind up thinking, anyway. Listen to the silence, the Universe...God. In addition to lockdown, we've been snowed in for the last two days. And it's still coming down. I've also been laid off since last March. Seems no one needs a limo these days. And gigs have been few and far between. But I've been, for a lazy bag o' bones, fairly productive. I've finished and published the aforementioned book, learned a bunch of new songs, finally finished a painting I dreamed twenty years ago (and I can't paint...see above...), enrolled and unenrolled in a program to finish my college degree (someday), and have almost learned to juggle. My fellow radio DJ's and I have been doing our shows remotely from home so there's another skill, with help, that we've picked up.
I had a physical about six months ago and mentioned that I'm just not feeling well. The doc said he's hearing a lot of that lately. Symptoms of house arrest. You mean I really do need contact with other people? But I thought I really didn't like people. I miss seeing dogs. But I never thought I'd miss interacting with people. I guess I was wrong. I've never had a problem admitting I'm wrong. I'm wrong a lot. I have another physical at the end of this month. And except for some worsening arthritis and a detached bone in my foot, I ain't doing so bad. Hey man, I'm gonna be sixty nine! I will have to mention the increasing pandemic blues to the doc. He'll probably say "Join the club." But I must admit, I can see the light, still a ways off, at the end of the tunnel. Just a feeling. And not a bad one. As Joe Walsh says," Life's been good to me, so far." I still have a few things on my bucket list. Gonna have to heal that foot before I can go surfing in Hawaii. Tourist waves of course. Ahh...... Birthdays.....getting older. As my father used to say," Beats the alternative." We'll see, Pop! Peace.
