BEHOLDER'S EYE

A FRIEND ASKED ME, "Do you think maybe you've already read your favorite book, heard the best song you'll ever hear, seen the best movie you'll ever see?"

At 70-something, I would say there's a good chance that I will never read a book better than those in my top 5 or so. I'm pretty sure the best music that can be written has been. Of course all of this is subjective and choice of best movie ever is even more a matter of taste and my tastes are apparently way outside the mainstream. For example, browsing through the list of the 100 Greatest Movies of All Time , you have to get all the way to number 43 to find one in my top 10. That one is "To Kill A Mockingbird". Then it's all the way down the list to number 83, "The Graduate", to find another of my all-time favorites, and those are the only picks of mine in that list of "greatest".

Music selections from Rolling Stones Top 500 confirm it: I'm out of touch, overly opinionated, and convinced that those under 20 have little idea of what really good music is, unless they are lucky enough to have a Pops that will play the greats for them, like Otis Redding's "Sittin On The Dock of the Bay"; The Beach Boys', "God Only Knows"; Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On"; The Beatles', "My Guitar Gently Weeps", Neal Young's, "Southern Man"; Crosby, Stills & Nash's, "Suite Judy Blue Eyes"; Bob Dylan's, "Like a Rolling Stone".

I'm not totally stuck in the 60s. For example, I'm pretty sure Diana Krall holds a place with the jazz greats of all time. Adele is magical. Brandi Carlile deserves a spot in the best of the best. Even two of my favorite Christmas songs are by young artists: "Snowman" by Sia and The Bahamas arrangement of "Christmas Must Be Tonight".

Can you believe that "White Christmas" didn't make the Rolling Stone magazine's list of 500 best songs ever? "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me didn't either.

Will a song like "Silent Night" ever be written again? Could it? Several years ago I wrote a piece for an online magazine called "The Curator". It was about my favorite story--one I've heard all of my life, and about that song and it's power. You can click on this title: A Fear Not Story, if you would like to read it.

Just for fun, let's talk about one of the favorite childhood Christmastime books of Baby Boomers: "The Sears Christmas Wish Book". It was our Amazon. Between the time it would arrive in our mailbox until Christmas Eve I would rifle through that book trying to decide between an Erector Set, Lincoln Logs, a Chemistry set, or Johnny Unitas football helmet.

As I "shop" for our Grandkids, I wonder, is there any thing out there these days that would bring as much happiness and fun as a Mr. Potato Head, or a Slinky, or a plastic egg full of Silly Putty? Have the best toys already been made? If they reached into their stockings and found an assortment of nuts, an orange and a few pieces of hard candy, would they look at me like I was playing some kind of cruel joke. I already have a book for each of them. Maybe a book, a warm hug and a round or two of UNO and hot cocoa will be enough. It will have to be. Just as I'm out of touch with current movies and music, I'm clueless about the kids' taste in toys. Anyway, I'll be retired in a few days and My Amazing-Missus and I will be on a "fixed-income". I'm sure that answer will satisfy our little wide-eyed flock in their matching pajamas.

THE ASTERISK AND ATTACHED STRINGS

COUNTING BLESSINGS.

Is CYA a real thing in the lawyer lexicon? I gave it a Google and sure enough, in a website of the "California Lawyers Association" I found an article about C-ingYA.

Does everything come with "Terms and Conditions"? You know: small-print? Is the asterisk the emoji for Caveat Emptor, which is translated: buyer beware?

If I send you a note like this in the midst of a rough time in your life: "I'm sending you thoughts and prayers.*" Do you assume there might be a footnote with some terms and conditions at the bottom of the page; something like: *This is mainly sentiment and does not constitute any promise of concrete support or action on my part. The offer is good as long as your situation is fresh on my mind.

I'm in the throes of finding a Medicare plan for My Amazing-Missus and myself. Maybe you've noticed the ads on TV. If you haven't, then your TV hasn't been on. Imagine trekking a path that for seniors should be clear, wide, flat, true, honest and well-lit; but instead it's winding and full of forks. There are roots growing into the path that trip you up. There are moss-covered rocks to make you slip and fall, and old signs nailed to trees with rusty spikes warning you to beware, because once you choose a plan, there's no turning back. The path is strewn with old people murmuring about regret over choosing an "advantage" plan or the wrong "medi-gap" plan. There is a place along the path called the "donut hole" which sounds delightful, but apparently is dreadful. I don't know what it is or how to avoid it, and the only answers seems to be embedded in the small-print that old eyes can't read.

But, this isn't really a post about all that malaise. This is about searching instead for something that comes freely and in full measure; WITHOUT CONDITION. In others words: unconditional, no asterisks.

That's risky business though. No lawyer, no politician, no business person is going to enter into any contract without a page or a hundred of CYA small-print. Do those Terms and Conditions come from a lack of trust? Maybe they come from hard lessons-learned. Maybe we're all just a little too jaded, bruised and burned to go into anything unconditionally.

My sage and beloved friend, Doug Manning, tells of a Justice of the Peace that would start each wedding ceremony at his courthouse with these questions to the bride and groom:

"So, you want to become ONE!?"

"I have a question for you: which one?" The point being that there's got to be some give and some receive from both.

I highly and strongly recommend you read a little book by C.S. Lewis called The Four Loves, which are affection (storge), friendship (phileo), romantic (eros) and charity (agape), which is unconditional love.

Speaking as one who is and has been loved unconditionally, with more than 50 years of marriage in the books, the answer to the Justice's question is: a relationship that includes all four of Lewis's ingredients will create a ONE that is born from both persons.

It is a journey though; a quest, a voyage--becoming friends, becoming lovers, becoming a team to take on the quagmire of stuff like medicare, to be there for one another for better or for worse. It's love in spite of, because of, not: love if... A relationship isn't a contract with terms and conditions. That doesn't mean it isn't without risks and hurts. Lewis offers this small-print:

"There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell." --C.S. Lewis.

This Thanksgiving season I am grateful for unconditional love. I'm thinking and praying that I can do better at giving and making as I am at taking.*

*As the small-print in the home internet brochures say, upload and download speeds may vary. When it comes to love, grace and peace I tend to upload a lot faster than I download. Just so you know.

AFTER THE "FALL"

I'LL ADMIT IT. The first words out of my mouth were not, "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!" They were a rapid fire of the same mild expletive, repeated thrice; the same word I have heard uttered many times by my maternal grandmother. (As if that makes it acceptable.)

I quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen the wipe out or were holding the ears of their young to protect them from this wild old man yelling obscenities into the cold, wet night. Actually I didn't yell them. I couldn't even breath. The impact had knocked the air from my lungs. Fortunately there was no one around.

Quickly I gathered myself, found a way to stand up thinking: NO ONE SHALL KNOW OF THIS!

You see I'm sort of senior-adultish. Once a senior "has a fall", the assumption is that they will fall all the time. I can remember a few times being at the ER with my parents in their 90s. Along with the typical hospital bracelet with the bar code on it that they scan everytime they hand you a Kleenex or take your temperature, they would get a red bracelet that said "FALL RISK".

So concerned about being labeled a FALLER am I, that I don't want to even call it a fall. I can just imagine the others on the playground at recess yelling, "Fuller the Faller!"--sort of like the abuse Winnie-the-Poo must of felt just because of that one time.

Here's how it went down. We went to a basketball game to watch our oldest Grand-Girl lead cheers, which she does wonderfully. When we went in the gym the weather was nice. I was wearing shorts, a Tulsa Hurricane sweatshirt, Birkenstocks and boxers. As we were leaving a cold front had come in bringing icy temps and sheets of rain. My Amazing-Missus suggested I might go get the vehicle and pick she and the younger Grand-Girls up out front. So, as if I was twenty-something instead of seventy-something, I went racing across the dark, dark parking lot, hood up, glasses covered in rain. When WHAM. I tripped on an unseen parking curb that I swear had been installed since we entered the gym an a few hours earlier.

Apparently on the first bounce I hit my left knee and right rib cage. I think the best picture I can give is of the way we used to dive head first on a Slip N Slide when we were kids. I limped to the car and quickly checked that there was no blood and that all my joints were in place and working. Good! Other than being soaking wet, covered in parking lot soot and not being able to breath, there's no way My Amazing-Missus would ever know what had happened. My first senior Fall would be my own secret. Somehow though she caught on. Maybe the fact that I would moan with each inhale of air gave it away.

I came clean and finally decided to go to the ER to have things checked out. A few hours later I left with my bar code scanned for a bunch of x-rays and a single pill that would help me rest, which I had to take with three witnesses watching.

Thankfully, I escaped without a FALL RISK bracelet, which I'm taking as the official word that I am not one--yet.

It's been a few days now. I've faithfully iced the knee and ribs and done my deep breathing exercises although inhaling is still like a kick in the ribs.

The good news is that I can still be counted on to walk on my own, to go get the car on cold, wintry nights and trusted to carry the eggs from the store to the car. Just give me a few days for these old ribs to heal.

I have to say, I'm rather proud of myself that I took the Big Wipe Out (which is my name for the incident), bounced hard, learned not to run in dark, wet parking lots, and I'm still standing and limping just a little.

BOO!

MAKING SCARY FUN. Halloween is today. It's one of my favorites because we get to make what should be scary, eerie, sinister and creepy; fun.

The are some other notable days coming up that also have the potential to be scary, eerie, sinister and creepy. I'm hoping for some fun in their midst, but I'm skeptical. Here's the list:

November 1: Sign up for Medicare and choose a plan. I don't know whether to put my trust in Tom Selleck or Joe Namath.

November 6: Fall Back. At my age I'll take any opportunity to "gain an hour" even if it is the one we lost last spring. But I don't like that fact that it will be dark before "Wheel of Fortune" comes on.

November 8: Election Day. This is the scariest of all. I realize I don't live in Georgia, but the fact that Hershel Walker could actually become a U.S. Senator--one of the 100 most powerful, unrepentent people in the country, makes my skin crawl. Which brings me back to Joe Namath. No offense meant, but Joe and Hershel, I loved watching you play football, but I think I'll look to someone who's been hit in the head a few less times to guide my Medicare choices and to sit in the Senate casting policy-making votes.

November 10: Dental appointment. If you can't see the inherent terror in that...

November 11: Veteran's Day. My fear here is that we are forgetting. Forgetting the sacrifice. Forgetting the worth of a democracy worth fighting for. Forgetting the beauty of civility and common causes.

November 17: My oldest Grand-Girl will be 14. Please can we slow this down a bit. I'm scared, I'm in awe of the beautiful young lady she is. I'm daunted: how can I be the best Pops I can be to a 14 year old?

Here's a picture of her at four years old sitting next to her Mimi, anxiously waiting on the curtains to go up on "The Nutcracker" ballet.

The next picture is of her a few nights ago sitting next to her Mimi, anxiously waiting on the curtains to go up on "Lady of the Camellias" ballet.

November 24: Thanksgiving. Not much to fear here other than the power of gluttony. I do fear that the scale has tipped to ingratitude in our culture today. Arrogance seems to be valued over humility; power over servanthood. Hope is giving way to despair.

In an essay by David Brooks he notes a study of headlines published between 2000 and 2019 by 47 news outlets popular in the United States. "The headlines grew significantly more negative, with a greater proportion of headlines denoting anger, fear, disgust and sadness.

"The General Social Survey asks people to rate their happiness levels. Between 1990 and 2018 the share of Americans who put themselves in the lowest happiness category increased by more than 50 percent. And that was before the pandemic.

"Each year Gallup surveys roughly 150,000 people in over 140 countries about their emotional lives. Experiences of negative emotions — related to stress, sadness, anger, worry and physical pain — hit a record high last year."

TODAY IS HALLOWEEN. Really the only thing to fear is that we will all be judged by some little witch, princess or Spiderman on the quality of the offering we drop in their bag or bucket. Sure the days are getting shorter. I'm going to pay the dentist mightily (because Medicare doesn't cover dental) to learn I need to floss more. All of our Grand-Kids are getting too old for Pops' antics and stupid jokes. I miss my Dad, one of the last WW2 vets. The election will come and go, some will accept the results, some won't. But, at 6:30, Pat and Vanna will still be there. Thankfully, the political ads will be gone for awhile. And when the Medicare ads run, I will have that settled.

After Thanksgiving we will go to Utica Square in Tulsa with all of our kids and Grand-Kids and they will sit by Santa for a picture just like I did when I was a little boy and the world seemed simpler.

Before your treat bowl is empty this evening, turn off the porch light and eat the last few Snickers by yourself in the dark. [You are giving Snickers aren't you?]