The Kiss

Found this picture today, taken in 1960. The memory brought proud tears. There is nothing particularly unusual about it. But the kiss shows the strong father/daughter relationship Kris and I have always had. She is ready for school and I am headed to work... That evening, after work and school; she probably drove a golf cart and kept score for me as I played a round of golf with a foursome in the GE golf league.

Qualms

I’m beginning to have qualms about the posts I make to this blog. It’s fun recalling happy events from the past and writing about them; it brings the happiness back into my life today. However, taking joy in writing (talking) about myself doesn’t seem like a good trait.... I’m gonna have to think about it :-)

Solo

November 17, 1942 ranks as one of the top 10 best days of my life. The day I made my first solo flight. It was in the PT-17 Stearman biplane. It's a whole chapter in my autobio-graphy, reduced to a couple of paragraphs for this posting:

    The landing was the best I had ever made... There was no doubt in my mind... I knew I had a good check-ride. I taxied to the ramp. The Major climbed out and asked, “Who taught you to side-slip a biplane?”

With a big smile, I mumbled a reply; saying something about a guardian angel. I understood what I said – I guess the Major did too; he never asked me to repeat. He just said, “Take the Stearman back up for thirty minutes; practice your figure-eights, shoot a couple of landings, then come in and report to me”.  But added with a big smile of his own, “If you hurt my airplane, don’t bother to report, just go pack your bags.”

Less than an hour later, I was calling my dad, to tell him the good news, “I soloed!”



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Mood ll

My body is a temporary instrument holding my soul.  I know nothing about the other world; but I have I have faith in what I sense and feel.  I do not understand it.  But I am positive that I have lived before and will again.

It Could Be

I had been away for more than a year, with the Air Corps learning to fly.

Lomie came to see me; we had a week for love, then tears, again, “Goodbye.”

I was sent to Africa. My duty was to transport troops and cargo by air.

While flying one night, I had a strange vision; real enough to curl my hair.

I had just left Aden, Arabia; it was late at night, ten thousand feet above the Red Sea.

The vision began a story about a boy named Chance and a girl named Emily.

Chance was driving a team and wagon; transporting war time cargo, too.

Emily’s sympathy was with the Gray. Chance was serving with the Blue.

Was the date a coincident? It was November eighteenth, nineteen forty-four.

It was exactly three years ago that I met Lomie, yet I was looking back eighty years or more.

As I flew on toward my home base at Khartoum, the vision began to unfold.

It seemed to be from a previous life, but maybe it was from a story I had been told.

It took me back to another time, and showed how Chance met Emily.

From Alabama, she had traveled west by wagon train, with her family.

Chance, a young man from Indiana, went west, too, for he had been told

There was a chance for a better life, maybe fame or a fortune in gold.

He settled in Virginia City; found a job with a freight line hauling silver ore.

His route took him through Ragtown. There he met Emily, in a General Store.

When my mind returned to flying, the runway at Khartoum, I could see.

As I prepared to land, I wondered... Was I, Chance? Was Lomie, Emily?

Mood

I believe that every person on earth is a spiritual being living in human form. That there was life before and another life will follow. The life we experience and live on earth and the lives we lived before will always be with us — we leave only the forms behind.

Happiness

The photo is of Lomie with our first new car; a 1951 Studebaker. She is also expecting our first baby. It was an exciting time to be alive. From that day to the present, we had five more new cars, but the baby in the oven was our one and only : A little girl we named, Kristina.

Discipline

Having new and expensive things is always tempting. But in today’s world, the road to excess is paved with tension, pressure and hefty bills. It’s more important than ever to focus on saving. It’s time to cut the list of ‘must haves’ down to the ‘bare essentials’. Establishing a good saving routine is the easiest way to make life a lot less stressful.

Adrian - A Living Beauty

Consider the lilies of the fields, see how they grow. What enchanting power is it that draws them from the prison of the soil and lifts them patiently towards the sun?

And what mysterious transfiguration of puberty is it, that takes a boy, quiets him and broadens him into a man; that takes a girl and fashions her into a living beauty – fairer than any art?

Growing Old - Part 6

I still feel good and enjoy my morning walks. However, there are obvious signs that I am growing older. I’m noticing more and more, that when I go for my walks, other walkers, especially the women, are passing me. I don’t seem to ever pass anybody.

Happy

I take it back...  Happiness can be found in old age.  It's by loving and being loved.

Photo of Granddad and Katie taking a nap in lounge chair during her Chirstmas vacation in 2009

Old Geezers' Crusade

I am still having trouble digesting the recent, Old Geezers’ Crusade, article by David Brooks

First, in the article, it was stated. “People are most unhappy in middle age and become happier as they get older.” That is complete ‘horse-hockey!’. Middle age is when you are ambitious, active and productive. In my opinion, middle age is the most satisfying time of life. Old age and retirement can be comfortable, but ambition, productivity and ‘happiness’ are things of the past.

Second, according to Brooks, "The only way an economic crisis in the United States can be avoided is for the Geezers to take it upon themselves to arise and force change. The young lack the power. Only the old can lead changes in health care and retirement age spending to make life better for their grandchildren."

The only answer given to accomplish that idea is for us Geezers to ‘Organize Around the Cause of Unselfishness!’ .

It seems to me that Brooks, in the same breath, went on to debunk that theory by saying; "It will not make any difference in how we vote, The politicians can not avert fiscal suicide. It’s clear that change will not come from Washington. It’s up to The Geezers, they are our future!" Again, no answer as to what we Geezers are supposed to do; except to be ‘unselfish’.

It might be true, but I take a little offense in the idea that we Old Geezers are selfish.

I’m at a loss for real answers! Maybe the best thing we Geezers can do is try our best to convince the young that they need to ‘spend less than they earn’. If they fail to ‘save’, they will never be free! The politicians will never learn!

Growing Old - Part 5

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My body may be wrinkled, my swim trunks old fashioned, but I will walk on the beach or to our community swimming pool. And if I choose to, I will jump in the water, paddle and splash with abandon, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will grow old.

Keeping Tab @ 1:00 AM

A successful life is like a game played to a set of rules. As one grows up he learns the rules and plays to win. Anyone should know that.

But what game do you choose? How does one wind up in a particular game in the first place? Suppose it’s the wrong game – then what is the point in winning it? If winning it is meaningless; what is life all about? If you have no idea of the ‘Meaning of Life’; does it mean that you have made a mess of your life?

If you have made a mess of your life; does that mean that you have failed? If you have failed; what exactly have you failed to do? How can you repair your life, when you have no idea of what you have left undone?

The Morning Breeze

In my old age, I often choose to get out of bed at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning and go to the computer to write a letter or an email to an old friend. Sometimes, while my fingers are pecking away on the computer keyboard, I begin to think about life. Specifically, to think about the meaning of it. I get a real kick out of thinking about things like the meaning of life. And it buoys me up when my fingers want to write about it; knowing that I am keeping tabs on the deep mysteries and the unknowable. The early morning hours are a good time to posts some of the more interesting thoughts to my blog, too :-)

Once Upon a Time

He Wears A Pair Of Silver Wings

1. Artist: Kay Kyser as sung on "The Best Years Of Our Lives"

Billboard position # 1 for 4 weeks in 1943

Words by Eric Maschwitz and Music by Michael Carr

Although some people say he's just a crazy guy
To me he means a million other things
For he's the one who taught this happy heart of mine to fly
He wears a pair of silver wings

And though it's pretty tough, the job he does above
I wouldn't have him change it for a king
An ordinary fellow in a uniform I love
He wears a pair of silver wings

Why, I'm so full of pride when we go walking
Every time he's home on leave
He with those wings on his tunic
And me with my heart on my sleeve

But when I'm left alone and we are far apart
I sometimes wonder what tomorrow brings
For I adore that crazy guy who taught my happy heart
To wear a pair of silver wings

For I adore that crazy guy who taught my happy heart
To wear a pair of silver wings

Growing Old - Part 4

As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own best friend.. Too many of my friends have left this world, before they had the chance to feel the contentment that comes with ‘growing old’.

February 11, 1941

It was 69 years ago today that I left my dear mother and nice home in Sandborn, Indiana. It was snowing and near zero temperature as I hitched-hiked, nearly 150 miles, to Chanute Field, Illinois to enlist in the Army Air Corp. Mom is now in heaven. The home has been demolished. But the memory remains.

Another Place

The world seems strange because it is strange.  I have only been here for a little while, but I have memories of another time and another place.  One day I will return....

I was Lucky

Working at General Electric was chall-enging and, for the most part, a pleasure.. In all the 27 years with them, I never once asked for a raise or promotion, or even planned for one. I simply tried to do my best at whatever I was assigned to do. I moved up the ladder, working on special assignment projects and was foreman, at one time or another, in all sections of shop operations. Eventually, I was promoted to a management position. Working for GE never compared to the thrill of flying airplanes; but it was rewarding. It was the right career for me.

Home

As I have seen many sights and visited several places of interest around the world -- and have enjoyed them -- in the future I resolve to stay close to home.  I have found that of all the place on earth I am much happier right here.

New Game

Within the first month of employment with General Electric, I won an award for suggesting a way to increase the output of an endshield turning machine.. Besides a cash award, I also received a share of GE stock. It opened up a new interest in my life. Owning my first share of common stock introduced me to the stock market game. An investment game I still play, though not quite with the same zeal I had ten years ago.

It's a Girl!

The war ends! We return to Indiana - new jobs,

new home, mortgage and bills.

Lomie did more than her share and still found time

to provide me with thrills.

But after seven years, the biggest thrill,

and I don’t mean maybe,

Was when she cried, “I killed the frog!

We’re going to have a baby!”

Each day, she became more beautiful.

I was as thrilled as I could be.

I knew it could not be fun for her;

but she seemed far happier than me.

She gave me a seven pound baby girl.

We named her Lola Kris.

I was so proud, but felt very humble;

for all I could give her was a kiss.

Growing Old - Part 3

The photo was taken in 1992, the year I decided to give up golf and start what I call the ‘solitude years’. Most of my waking hours were spent in the ‘boar’s nest’. One goal I had, was to devise a computerized investment program; a disciplined approach for managing a stock portfolio. I even had intentions, and compiled a lot of notes, for writing a ‘How To’ book, titled, ‘Tweaking the Stock Market’.

It was also the beginning of the Internet Age. AOL was my provider, but it was a long distance dial-up service.. It was okay for sending and receiving e-mail, but slow and expensive for browsing. That technology changed fast. Today’s high-speed Internet service with its fantastic search engines, is amazing.  I spend more time than ever in the boar’s nest.

By-the-way, the computerized investment program and the book writing goals faded away, and were never resumed, when my daughter asked me to make the first of two ‘Journeys to China’ with her.

Right or Wrong

My post yesterday about golf buddies, brought to mind a ‘right or wrong’ question that still remains unanswered.

The most interesting in the group I played golf with was a WWII pilot, with the German Luftwaffe. As one pilot to another, he and I became fast friends. As we walked the fairways, we often discussed the war, what we did and even touched on the ‘Whys’. I once asked if he was a Nazi during the war. He said he was, but the term meant little more to him, at the time, than me saying that I was a Republican. — purely political.

His becoming a pilot with the Luftwaffe was for the same reason I chose to be an Army Air Force pilot — we both wanted to fly. But during the war, it was also obvious, he felt he was serving God and his country. What’s wrong with that? I, too, had convinced myself, I was serving God and my country..... In God’s mind, was one of us right; the other wrong? .

On the humorous side: One day while playing golf, my German friend hit a couple of bad shots and let out a few German cuss-words. I asked him to translate. He said, “Don’t worry about it, there are no words in the German language that can match the foul words you Americans use!”

Growing Old - Part 2

This picture of me and my golfing buddies at the 19th hole was taken about 20 years ago. I show it as an example of what I call, ‘The Early Retirement Years’ and ‘Growing Old in Style’.

As most of you know from my previous posts, I am somewhat pleased with my past accomplishments. I’m sure my old golfing friends are equally proud of theirs. Most of us are fortunate to still be living as good friends and neighbors in our retirement community. But, I believe, those who have had the most success in their productive years are probably the ones who most miss the joys of earlier achievements. Like me, all of them are now over age 85; some may truthfully say they are contented. But in my humble opinion, any that claims to be really happy, today, under current conditions, is either lying, has forgotten the past — or belongs to a very fortunate minority..

Solitude

I’m beginning to find that the secret to a good old age is simply accepting a pact with solitude. Of course, having an interesting pastime, such as writing, is a plus – not because it defeats solitude – but the contrary; it nurtures it.

Transition

The photo was taken in early spring of 1938. Although the depression was at its worst, I was on cloud nine. My last two years of high-school were a blast! I played on the basketball varsity team and was co-captain. I had my own 1929 Model ‘A’ Ford roadster. A steady girl friend to take to school activities, on dates, to dances, movies and for joy rides. Plus, a paper route and a job as a grocery clerk on Saturdays to earn spending money.

Then, shortly after graduating from high-school, my girl friend moved away. I ran into a tree with the Model ‘A’, making it total junk. And, on top of that, I began thinking it was time to leave the family nest. But full-times jobs were a rarity. After a year of menial part time jobs and a short stint in a low paying job as service station attendant, despair began to set in. I could see no hope for the future. It was the darkest period of my life.

However, by 1940, Hitler was on a rampage in Europe. FDR began building up our military, both in arms and personnel. The draft was started. I did not wait to be called. I enlisted in the Army Air Corps because I preferred to be around airplanes, rather than wading mud or being on a boat.... At last, I had jumped out of the nest, and literally began spreading my wings. Being in the Air Corps hastened the transition from boy to manhood.. I soon found a beautiful lifetime girl friend. And shortly after Pearl Harbor Day, I was selected for pilot training; my big chance to earn a pair of real wings --- Silver Wings. . I was back on cloud nine!.