Quick, Hootie, Get me a Doctor (of Physics)

A good blogging friend of mine, Michelle, has cited my comments in some her latest posts. And, while I am very appreciative of the fact that she takes the time to consider my views, the real talent shown in her posts are due entirely to her beliefs. I only serve to sort of 'grease the wheels,' so to speak.

I check her blog almost every time I log on to see if there is anything new going on. And I am always pleased to see the growth of her homelife and her growing awareness of the responsibilities and rewards of being an adult in a world gone crazy. A world where many adults never received basic instruction in manners, language, work ethic, religious matters, or family situational ethics. Of course, they didn't receive much other instruction also, or, if they did, it certainly did not catch.


But her latest post really intrigued me. It was about time. No, I mean it was about time, the noun, as in how rapidly it passes, how slowly it passes, we had a good time, bad time, etc. And it got me to thinking about my time on this planet of the naked ape. All the many years of life that have passed and the many that are still to come (assuming we aren't all wiped out on December 22, 2012 at about 10:00 AM--I'll let you figure that one out, if you do not already know!)

For the most part, I have enjoyed these three-score plus (but less than 10) and I attribute that mostly to the fact that I DID receive such instruction. Not always by parents and not always by teachers but by friends, acquaintances and just plain common sense. You know, the old 'what can I learn from this experience?' thing.

I won't go into a history of myself. Most of you have some idea of that already (if not, try reading the former posts on this blog, discounting about half, and being skeptical about the remaining quarter. Oh, the other quarter? Pure gas, man, pure gas.) But you all know I just dearly love hillbilly music. And bluegrass music. And big band music. And some classical. And some jazz. And a little of everything else (except 'heavy' hymns!)

And there are two songs that I dearly love. And guess what? They both concern--ta da--time!
One I have liked ever since I first heard it back in the late 1960's or early 1970's. It is called "Too Old To Die Young." Don't ask me who wrote it or who had the biggest hit with it, because I assure you I do not know. The last group I heard sing it was "The Bluegrass Legends" on the "Jubilee" program from WKAS-Ashland, KY (KET). Here it is as I remember it--


If life is like a candle light, then death must be the wind.
You can hold your hand so tight, but it still comes blowing in.
So I will climb the highest hill, to greet the rising sun,
And pray that I may live until I'm too old to die young.

Let me watch my children grow,
To see what they become.
Lord, don't let that cold wind blow,
'Til I'm too old to die young.

I once had some precious friends I thought would never die.
Now all I have that's left of them, are these teardrops in my eye.
If I could have one wish today, and know it would be done,
Then I would say everyone can stay 'til they're too old to die young.

Let me watch my children grow, to see what they become.
O, lord don't let that cold wind blow 'til I'm too old to die young,
No, Lord, don't let that cold wind blow, 'til I'm too old to die young.

But the one that came to mind when I read Michelle's last post was this next one. And I admit that I don't know all of it probably, just a fragment. But it really sums up the way time works. It is about a letter a fellow gets from an old flame--but it kind of sums up an awful lot of ideas , hopes, plans, dreams, schemes, the whole of human experience as far as time is concerned. And, truly, I could only guess at the title--I have tried to find it on the WEB but I keep getting George Jones and Colin Ray and "Just Someone I Used to Know," and that aint it, folks.



Time's like a river
That flows round the bend
And can never return to the places it's been.
So meet me tomorrow, where we used to go.
She signed it "Someone that You Used To Know."

The years have gone by,
Some good, and some bad,
But I always remember
The times that we had.
So meet me tomorrow where we used to go.
She signed it "Someone That You Used To Know."


Now, boy, I can get into a song like that. No big analysis, but lets' get rid of the obvious hope for cheating, okay. That aint me and that aint you, I hope (there's that old ethical, moral training rearing its' head again!) So we can concentrate on "...The years have gone by, Some good, and some bad..."

They sure have. And they sure have been. I have been blessed with two fine adult children and six wonderful grandchildren, from four to eighteen, four beautiful girls and two handsome young men. Yeah, I know, everyone says that. But in my case it is true. Plus a fine son-in-law and a great daughter-in-law. And my wife of some (almost) 42 years. Bless her heart, she is the best thing that ever happened to this old country boy.

We haven't been rich, but we really haven't been poor. A lot of times we were comfortably well off and other times it became rather dicey, and we needed help, got it, and repaid it all pretty fast when our situation turned favorable again. We have lived in five states, some more than once, from the Ohio Valley to California and from Michigan to Texas. Our kids got to see more of the country 'live' than most kids of their generation ever saw on tv or in the movies. Both had the opportunity, with loans, to attend good universities and both now hold responsible jobs in their respective communities. The oldest grandchild is eighteen and has been working regularly for the past two years while finishing high school.

So yes, some good and some bad--but I do remember the times that we had. And they were almost all good. Those which weren't were, sometimes, my own damned fault, and other times, pure bad economic fortune, the result of not moving quickly enough when I plainly saw the writing on the wall. But having a good woman by your side is the best asset any man can have, fellows. And the same for you women, you know a good man is hard to find, but find him you must, for he is the pillar of your existence if he is good, and the bane of your life if he is bad. After 42 years, I guess I'll keep her.


And it is true that history does not repeat itself. Time can never return to the places it has been. Once used, the moment is gone. Similar situations can occur and that is why folks say that history does repeat itself, but it does not. Believe me. And if you choose not to believe me, all you need to do is request a TS chit and I'll be happy to forward one to you at minimal cost. This time!

I often wondered what good a time machine would do. Can you imagine the harm it would cause if there actually was one and the operator went back to Bethlehem and found out that it was really a shepherd boy in the manger, and not Christ? Or that it was actually Barabas that was crucified? And that Easter IS really all about colored eggs for Sister Sue? The possibilities are stunning. A time machine, huh? Now where in the hell is that personnel directory when I need it? Oh, there it is. Thanks, Hootie. had any good voles, lately? Huh? Let's see, tch tch tch. Nope. No time scientists here. How about a damned good physicist? Spit, the best one is Einstein and I'd need a damned time machine to get to him. Spit!

See what you done, Michelle. Now I'm so rattled that I think Hootie is back. By golly, I'm sending him down the other side of Sandy to hunt you down and drop a mouse in your coffee. YEEECCCCH! Time. How ridiculous. Only a prisoner thinks about time. He's got nothing but trouble and time on his hands. (Thanks, Tom T.) Oh, well, at least it did get me to write something again. So I guess some good came out of it. Thanks from me. I don't know about those other 1 people who glance in here and are usually disappointed.