I was gone in a cloud of dust and gravel...

I just returned from a ride across the pasture, riding three abreast in the Ranger, with two of the passengers yelling,

"Faster, Grandpa, go faster!"

I guess when you're ages three and five, a fast ride across the pasture is akin to riding the bumper cars at the park. I, on the other hand, know of the hidden dangers of a fast trip across unknown ground......armadillo holes, rocks, and wash-outs are not pleasant experiences when they're unexpected.

So rather than going faster I let Lilah take over the controls. Standing on the floorboard in front of my seat, she navigated from left to right with no apparent rhyme nor reason, but at a pace that allowed all of us to enjoy the scenery......much safer too.

It took me back to a time when I learned to drive my dad's old GMC truck. It was green, and I suppose I was a little green as well. Powered by a trusty old six cylinder engine and a three speed on the column, it was the perfect teaching machine.

We lived on a dusty old road with trash trucks rumbling by every day as they made their way to the city dump. The dump was about two miles away, and when I was eleven or twelve years old, Dad would let me accompany him on the short ride to dump our two barrels of trash. On occasion, he let me drive until we arrived at the entrance to the dump, where he would take over the duties of backing the truck to the appropriate dumping spot. There was an old black gentleman who would walk slowly to our truck, take a slow walk around to check the contents, then point his bony finger to the area where he wanted us to unload......To me it all looked the same, but he had very definite instructions as to where our load would go.

I hadn't completely mastered the use of the clutch, and had never used reverse gear, when I decided one day that there was no need to have Dad come along on that little old trip to the dump. After all, he was busy, the trash barrels were half full, the truck was parked in the alley, and I knew the way. Good to go!

I was a strong kid, so loading the barrels was no problem. Neither was starting the truck. Finding first gear, and setting the whole thing in motion was a different matter, but finally I was pulling out of the alley and on my way to the dump......alone. I suppose I might have wandered from left to right a little aimlessly, but I never went all the way into either ditch. Those old trucks tended to have pretty loose steering, and power steering was unheard of for an old work truck. Soon the entry to the dump rolled into sight, and I saw the old gentleman rise from his stool and get ready to meet me at the gate.

I sat up straight in the seat and waited for him to point the way. He raised an eyebrow, and for the first time ever I heard him speak, "Old Jack lettin' you come by yourself today?" Uh oh, two things immediately hit me. He knows my dad, and next time he sees him I'm in deep doodoo.

Oh well, too late to worry about that now, as he pointed to the assigned area for my load of trash, and I realized it would require a new skill.......backing-up, or should I say backing-down, a slight incline to the trash heap. I concentrated mightily, used all of my abilities, and did it. I really did it! I was feeling pretty proud of myself as I dumped the barrels and climbed back into the cab and engaged the clutch......

Suddenly the truck is rolling backwards down the incline......Oh #$%$#%!

I slammed on the brakes, calmed my nerves, and thought it through....I can do this.  So, with my heel on the brake, toe on the gas, left foot on the clutch, I started that little six cylinder motor......It was all good until I tried to take off....buck, buck, die.....and again, and again. Then, I looked up to see the black gentleman shuffling his way to where I was sitting. In a panic, I repeated the process, gave it a "little" more gas, and let it fly.......literally!

Gravel was flying, barrels were flying, tires were spinning, and that little old black gentleman.....he was flying too as he scrambled to get out of the way of the wild-eyed kid in the out-of-control GMC truck.

No harm, no foul.....I was gone in a cloud of dust and gravel.

I'm not sure if my dad ever found out about my escapade.....if so, he never mentioned it. Soon after that, the trips to the dump became a part of my regular chores, and with experience, I became a better driver. As for that old black gentleman........after that first experience he would just shake his head when he saw me coming. Then, while still sitting on his stool, he would point his bony old finger to a nearby pile of trash.

Funny thing though, he never again came out to look at my load, and he always directed me to the flat ground......I suppose it was out of respect for my driving expertise.....but really, What Do I Know.

Tilting at windmills....

You know what I miss?

Character!

No, no, not "Characters" 'cause I'm well acquainted with a lot of "characters" who make my life quite entertaining, and in some instances those folks are people of character as well. In fact, I had breakfast this morning with a few friends who fit that description.......but I digress.

In my work, and that's a word that loosely describes what I do for a living, I have the opportunity to interact with a lot of different people. Some of them are quite successful, while others are striving to be, and others are simply looking for a way to get there without putting forth the effort it takes to make it happen.

Studying people, and what makes them tick, has become a passion of mine. What I've found is that the folks with character are the ones I'm attracted to. Not necessarily the ones who have attained some level of success, but the ones who, whatever their status, have developed core values that make you want to see them succeed.

Sadly, it seems that those traits are becoming less and less prevalent in our society. From our highest elected officials, to the people trying to scam the system for all of the "free stuff" they can lay their hands on......Oh wait, I can't tell the difference anymore. And, you know what's missing, character!

Has everyone abandoned the concept of right and wrong? Have we really become a society where anything goes as long as we get the things we want? Have we become so intolerant of the views of others that we refuse to acknowledge that we can have different opinions about the same issue? It certainly seems to be the case.

Yes, I miss people of character. In fact, I think it's high time that we reintroduce this concept that seems to have taken a leave of absence. Lets start with our families, our schools, in the workplace, and in life. Surely if enough people begin to demand honesty, integrity, and accountability from everyone from their own family members to their elected officials, we can make a difference.

Of course I was raised in a time when we listened to Paul Harvey on the radio, watched Roy Rogers on television, and witnessed Billy Graham impact the lives of thousands with his sermons. Was it a better time, or just a different time that's now a distant memory?

I sometimes lose myself in the thoughts of an old man who seems to be out of step with everything, and who like Don Quixote, is tilting at windmills. Is it worth it......I think so, but as always, What Do I Know.


 

A sad good-bye....

Well, I'm about to become "unemployed" again. You see, the funny thing about being self-employed is that every time you lose a client, or have a contract expire, you're technically unemployed. How long it lasts is simply a matter of how quickly you find another client and sign another contract. Sometimes it's a matter of weeks, sometimes a matter of months......either way it's still a stressful time.

This time it's a big one. In 2002 I contracted with a start-up group in Southeast Kansas to provide business assistance to area residents. The intent of this fledgling Non-Profit was to stimulate the local economies by helping local businesses succeed. A great and noble effort it was, but it has now run its course. In other words it has run out of money to continue.

It's a sad day, for in fact, the effort has been highly successful in accomplishing its goal. Over 120 new businesses were started, over 350 new jobs created, and nearly 700 clients were served. Think about it, in four of the poorest counties in the state of Kansas, with a population of less than 20,000, we were able to create a glimmer of hope. I am very proud to have been a part of it.

But, now it's time to shift gears and find new challenges. At age 62 it becomes more difficult, however, business consulting is one of the few careers where a few years, and a little gray hair, works to one's advantage. People have more confidence in your knowledge if it appears you've experienced the ups and downs of business cycles a few times. It's too bad that same thing can't be said for jobs in the corporate world where youth is king. The thought of hiring some old fogey like me never crosses the minds of the twenty-somethings working in the HR office.

I've been self-employed in one form or another since 1995. I do a little ranching, own some commercial real estate, and have started a new venture with a colleague which appears to be promising. Yet, I'll truly miss the people, who with a hope and a prayer, created the QUAD Enterprise Facilitation Program. They are fine people, and good friends.....

Life goes on, and no doubt I'll survive until the next contract comes along....sooner than later I hope, but as always, what do I know!

A little slice of Heaven....

My eight year old grandson, Jaxson, is playing his first "real" baseball this year. He's played T-Ball and the YMCA league, but this year he's playing in a league where they actually keep score, there are winners and losers, and the coaches are trying to teach the importance of fundamental baseball. And, most importantly, they have real uniforms and nice hats......or so Jaxson says.

Of course being an old baseball player, coach, umpire, fan, father, and now grandfather who's followed the game for over fifty years, I have my own opinion as to what's important and how it should be taught. I'm a real stickler for teaching fundamentals, including the fundamentals of sportsmanship, gracious losing, and even more gracious winning. I was pleased to see all of these things taking place when Miss Elizabeth and I attended one of his games a few weeks ago.

But as everyone knows, the real reason grandparents go to little league ball games is to cheer for their grand kids, and if we're to be perfectly honest, to see them show that spark of potential talent that may set them apart from the others.......or maybe that's just me with the old competitive juices flowing.

Anyway, it was a great time to be out at the ball park. It was hot (of course), but one could find a bit of shade if you were skinny enough to take advantage of the long shadow cast by the light pole behind the bleachers. I do believe it was the first time I've seen a bleacher full of fans sitting in a perfectly straight line....

Jaxson had been to bat a couple of times and had hit the ball to get on base; nothing dramatic, but he was doing okay at the plate. In the field the players were alternating positions each inning and Jaxson was at shortstop when a pop-up came his way. This was his chance to shine.....he circled under the ball, ready to make the catch when the third baseman tried to make the catch as well....oops. An unexpected trip to the dugout, ice bag applied to the bruised lip, but none the worse for wear.

Hey, it's baseball; "rub some dirt on it and play", "don't let the other team know that it hurts". We've all heard that advice.......but, this is our grandson we're talking about, and Miss Elizabeth is sitting by me saying, "poor baby".....What's that all about! There's no crying in baseball!

Late in the game, the team is down by a few runs, and needs a big rally to win......and, yes, winning is important. Jaxson is at the plate with a serious look on his now swollen face, but he's a gamer and will give it a shot. Trying to make us all proud, he pulled one to right field, over the fielder's head, all the way to the fence for a triple. It was a stand-up triple, but he slid anyway just to get his uniform dirty. He scored on the next hit and slid again, just because he was encouraged by the amount of dirt generated by the first slide.

Oh, the joy of baseball. At any level it's great fun, and if you happen to be a grandparent, it's gotta be, as a friend of mine once said, "a slice of Heaven".

Hopefully I'll get to see another game soon....before I get to Heaven, but what do I know.

There's still time....

It's been months since I've written anything, and even now, I'm struggling to find that "creative" thought which will launch a witty, yet meaningful story to share.

Perhaps, somewhere deep in the crevices of my mind there's a spark, but for now it seems to be eluding me. I suppose it's just the end of the year doldrums, as I look back and see how little I accomplished in 2012, and how much lies ahead in 2013.

I suppose, however, some of my malaise could be due to the fact that it's the Sunday before Christmas and I've yet to finish my Christmas shopping. Oh, don't be alarmed, for it's the norm for me.

As Miss Elizabeth says, "You always wait until the last minute just in case something happens to me and you'll get off the hook altogether." She has such a way with words!

I, on the other hand, attribute my tardiness to the "thoughtful" approach I use to weigh the importance of each and every gift. A man can't just rush out and buy whatever happens to be on the shelf, can he? It takes weeks, and sometimes months, to find the gift that will have the desired effect.

And that, my friends, is why I'm still pondering......

After all, it's only Sunday, and Christmas is still two days away.....plenty of time for someone who has already put so much thought into the process.....

I'm quite sure that I'll find the perfect gift.  I'll know it when I see it......

But, as all of you know by now.....What do I really know anyway?

Getting older by the minute....

Yesterday was my 61st birthday......and that's about all I have to say about that!

I met some of my old high school buddies for breakfast, and as always, it was filled with laughter, tall tales, old memories, and some concerns for friends who are dealing with health issues that we all know could beset any of us now that we are at "that age".

One of my very best friends is dealing with some of those problems.....very serious, although he tends to make light of it when we're together. Yesterday, he mentioned that the risk of additional surgery is greater than living with the problem. Sometimes life gives us bitter pills.

What do I do?

How do I act?

We've known each other too long to just ignore it, and I've nagged him for years about giving up some of the vices that have exacerbated these health issues. But, he's the kind of guy who has always lived life to the fullest, and who probably won't change now.

Still rides his Harley.....with no helmet!

Still smokes.....but not as much!

Still enjoys the good food.....can't comment on this one!

You do what you can, say what you may, but in the end it's the decision of each of us to make the necessary changes. Not so much for ourselves, but for those who care about us.

Yesterday was my 61st birthday...... I hope to celebrate the next one with a breakfast with my friends.

All of them.

I've only got two hands.....

A few weeks ago we took delivery of a pre-packaged kit to build a combination playhouse and garden shed. You know, one of those wonderfully marketed, beautifully illustrated, cute as a button little cottages that two men can assemble in twenty hours........fat chance.

My two boys were coming home for a visit and it was my plan to have everything ready so we could tackle the ordeal of uncrating and assembling the kit......I even took a few minutes to read the instructions, all forty-six pages! On page three there was a list of the tools that would be needed to tackle the job, hammer, pry bar, level, skilsaw, tin snips, reciprocating saw.....reciprocating saw? I don't own a reciprocating saw, and I'm not really sure I know what one is. Not a problem...I have a computer, I have the Internet, I can have one in a manner of days.

Sure enough, I found what I was looking for and placed the order for a brand new Milwaukee SawZall, which according to the website, was exactly what I was looking for to do the job. My order qualified for expedited shipping and I would have it in a couple of days. Great, it would be here by the following weekend and I could continue the project. We have a great UPS delivery man, and when I pulled into the driveway Thursday afternoon, a large box awaited me......too large.....much too large for a new saw.

The packing slip indicated that this brand new, state of the art ShopVac, should have been received by someone in Indiana......not some old cowboy in Kansas.

So, I went back to the internet, found the phone number and called customer service. "Oops, our mistake." the man said. "Ship it back and we'll ship your saw when we receive the ShopVac." I didn't care much for the fact that he didn't trust me enough to ship my saw until he received the return, and I said so. He then assured me that he would see what he could do about sending it earlier. So I sent the ShopVac and waited for my saw.....and waited.....and waited. No saw appeared at my back door, and no communication from the shipper. Being the impatient man that I am, I called and asked for my account to be credited, which they promptly did. Back to square one.

At that point I decided to take a drive to a nearby town to make the purchase. I found what I was looking for, and drove home. What's that? A small box setting outside the back door.....SawZall.

Okay, so now I have two saws, and I've only paid for one. The next day was a busy day, and I didn't have time to call the merchant to see how we would handle the error. I was on my way home when my cell phone rang.....

It was Miss Elizabeth, who said, "Guess what?" I hate it when people say that. It could be anything, and I'm not a very good guesser. But, I played along and said, "I don't know, what?"

"UPS just delivered another SawZall."

Good grief! Now, I've got three new SawZalls and only two hands......What's a guy to do?

Well, as we all know by now - don't look to me for answers, 'cause what do I know?