‘I do not remember the desks being so small,’ said Billy B. ‘At times they seemed quite large,’ he continued. ‘Once there was ink left in the ink well and I got it on my new shirt,’ Billy B mused.

‘The desks with the lids where you could place all your academic gear seemed like my office,’ Chet laughed. ‘I relished the role of scholar,’ said Chet. ‘ The beginning of each school year I determined that this is the year that I set my sights on becoming a doctor, ‘ Chet smiled.

‘It was so hot when we began school,’ Jane observed. ‘I felt as if I would melt,’ she said. ‘ I loved twirling practice which began the first day of class,’ Jane beamed.

‘I do not think our teachers made much money,’ Daryl noted. ‘I recall Mr. Beard brought his lunch in a brown paper sack and that he worked pumping gas in the summer,’ said Daryl. ‘Mr. Beard greeted me one day when Neva J was getting gas for the 57′ Chevy,’ Daryl remarked.

‘The fear of guns never entered my mind in those halcyon days,’ Jane considered. ‘There were a few bullies full of hot air,’ she said. ‘Our school felt sanctuary and safe,’ Jane said with a tear.

‘I remember duck-and-cover,’ Billy B grinned. ‘There were 3 recesses a day,’ he chuckled. ‘The ice-cold milk from the machine was to die for,’ Billy B laughed.

‘I preferred the glue over the paste,’ Chet remarked. ‘I loved when the teacher rolled in the movie projector for a film,’ he smiled broadly. ‘Sometimes I napped a little while the lights were off,’ Chet winked.

‘Remember the day that JFK was assassinated the principal announced it over the speaker system,’ Billy B asked? ‘School was dismissed and I walked home to find Neva J crying,’ Billy B said sadly. ‘The world changed and we were there to witness the transformation,’ Billy B whispered…

‘I still fit at my desk there are my initials carved in the wood,’ Jane exulted! ‘I laughed all the time everyone was my friend,’ Jane said happily…

‘So many of our classmates are gone,’ Chet noted with dignity. ‘We were at the beginning of things now we are at the end,’ he said. ‘I would like to do it again,’ he dreamed…

‘Settle down please, Mrs. K. told the first-grade class at Hillcrest School please tell the class each of your names beginning with the first row,’ she said.

‘My name is Billy B and I know how to write my name on the chalkboard if you want me to show you,’ Billy B proudly announced. ‘I have been writing my name for some time ever before we moved from Chicago,’ Billy B ascertained. ‘Several people have commented on how well I write my name,’ Billy B assured Ms. K.

‘Please come forward and demonstrate your name-writing skill for the class, said Mrs. K. ‘While Billy B is coming forward Chet would you please remove your hat and place it in the Cloak Room,’ Mrs. K asked.

‘Billy B that is not your name but appears similar to Cuneiform Script interesting for further examination,’ Mrs. K. smiled. ‘You may take your seat,’ she said…

As a lad, I found talking to old men enjoyable. I was a member of a church that was almost all elderly people. Now I am a member of a church primarily comprised of senior citizens or members of the Golden Years Club. The difference is I am no longer a lad but a member in good standing of the Senior Section.

It is said that we old folks do not change. We are set in our ways. We no longer read the instructions. The familiar becomes precious. Surprises shock us. Change calcifies our resolve. Youth informs us of the new ways. The fresh as dew on the Lilly 50-somethings. We know they have not seen what we have. They have not heard what we heard. They have not felt what we felt.

The revelation is that the young tell us many things we have not experienced. Our youthful friends are multicultural and multiracial. They were born with a computer in their crib. They attend school daily fearing for their lives. They witness wars that last 20 years. They seek God but not in a hymnal. They have skill sets that are not for a 32-year career at one job.

Climate change is here. We oldsters know we will not live to see the worst of it. The generations behind us wonder where it will end.

Baby Boomers were taught to get a good job and a home car. Money is the answer. Riches erase dividing class lines. A vacation a year is the goal of the suburban dream…

We are on the train that is rapidly clickety-clack down the track. The Old Man watches with keen interest. He remembers when he was a boy. He recalls the mystery of the Old…

For many years I have been intrigued by cults. They come in many forms. The Jonestown Massacre caught my interest when on November 18, 1978, 918 people died at the behest of their Leader Jim Jones. I had just begun working at Southern Illinois University the month before. Suddenly I realized that good people could be brainwashed in mass by a religious leader. I wondered how many more of these damaging groups there were.

Raelians are members of the cult of Claude Vorilhon, a French singer and Journalist. They believe that ‘ humans originated from alien scientists who came to earth in UFOs.’

A red flag identifying a cult is demanded subservience to the group’s leader. This includes the giving of your money and time to the betterment of the cause with the leader being demonstrably the beneficiary of your efforts.

I learned that nothing succeeds like thinking for yourself. Questions to ask are; why is your leader lying to you, why is your leader rich and you and your fellow supplicants are poor?

We humans seek a cause to celebrate attach ourselves to and belong. To be a true believer we affix blinders on our heads ignore evidence our eyes reveal and associate ourselves with others who have made the big step into alternate reality. It is good to be a part of a group we say.

Cults are noted for those they do not include. All who do not accept without question the doctrine of the great leader are prohibited from entrance to the chosen. When the leader is involved with your personal life and family identity you may be a member of a cult. If the great leader tells you to give up your finances until it hurts you may be a member of a cult. When the great leader enjoys hearing gossip about your fellow church members…

Political cults exist. Hitler headed a political cult. Look at the photos of women and men with manic expressions as they listened to his speeches. As the Jews were ushered to their death in gas chambers most turned their head and trusted the macabre actions of the Nazis. Jews were Germans and loved before Hitler’s cultish decrees. They were patriotic Germans and respected in their communities. They loved Germany!

The political division in the United States has grown frightening. I have lost friends. People passionately take a political side at the cost of life and limb. Faith has not identified with a political party. Love for the country has become a love for a Presidential candidate. Some believe the flag is their domain…when all Americans love our flag. Some think that to be a Christian is to be a member of a political party.

We weep for the division of our Republic. ‘Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning…’

The Birds are singing, and the grass is green blue sky overhead with wispy clouds. I could have been a weatherman. The protocol gives purpose. Daily mundane tasks wrap up our sense of place and reason for being. Mundane is good when it adds to our route back to Jerusalem. Protest is fine at times as is devil-may-care attitude…but not always.

Days are filled with groceries exercise bills and repairs, with the daily time for reflection of the infinite. Habit settles emotions. Routine rejuvenates scattered thoughts. Peace emanates from a place settled secured and static.

I had a minister many years ago who admonished that when you have reached the end of your rope…tie a knot in it and hold on. A true directive for troubled times.

Throughout my 32-year 2-month and 3-week career, I noticed a few folks who had difficulty with the regularness of work. There were late-night celebrations and off-ramps to other pursuits that led nowhere. So many fruitless opportunities there was not the time to afford to make a living. I had a colleague ask me my secret for working so many years at the University and I replied, ‘One day at a time.’

Life hands us reversals. This happens throughout life. The loss of a loved one the loss of a job and stress can short-circuit our hard drive. What seemed so simple can be complex. Many of us suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. We need friends who will help us hold on to the rope of life.

The Paralympic Games are coming. Inspiring the wonderful humans who have not let go of the rope. No legs run on new ones. Such is life. We seek the extraordinary majesty of the world to come. Heaven is our throne and Earth is our footstool. Suddenly we awake from our deep slumber to see we are surrounded by Heaven…

Now that cleaning is out of the way I am free as a bird on the wing. The temperature is pleasant and the wind is blowing a happy breeze. Happy is good. As a manager/administrator at Southern Illinois University, I endeavored to have a happy workplace for my colleagues. We all shoulder burdens why make the load heavier with silly narcissistic rules for good people to follow for no reason. When you treat people like you want to be treated an excellent work product will follow.

Saturday says ‘Do You!’ Be yourself there is no one like you! The wind is a quartet of reed instruments. The music is mesmerizing.

‘Today I shall be a published author writer of mystery novels,’ You say. ‘Home will be the Woods with trees talking among themselves,’ You continue. ‘The world will look purple red yellow with a camera filter to enhance the colors,’ You sigh…

‘Time for an end-of-summer swim no clock watching no worries or cares,’ She said. ‘A little wine is fine,’ She continued. ‘Let’s go to Europe on a Tramp Steamer we will stay for the fall and return after Christmas,’ She winked and smiled.

‘You certainly have a lovely woods,’ Bear said. ‘I come from Tennessee with a banjo on my knee,’ Bear continued. ‘I love traveling could I join you on the Tramp Steamer when you go to Europe,’ asked Bear with a wide toothy grin?

It is Friday again. Yesterday school was out and now it is back in. We are planning our weekend. Friday has the weekend feel although you have to work. I remember the Friday Night Horror Movie when I was a lad. I waited all week to see it on one of our three television channels. Friday was special.

Often I would see a movie at the Orpheum Theatre on Friday night. We kids were in high spirits. The weekend had begun. Hope of adventure discovery and mischief swelled our chests. After the Friday night movie, our weekend was still a magnificent two days left. No more teachers no more books…unless you had homework.

Pounds Hollow Swim Adventure was a part of Saturday. At this time of year, we had one eye on the advent of Labor Day and the closing of the Hollow for the season. The Hollow had the scent of water. A different environment than the stodginess of the classroom. Devil-May-Care was our creed.

‘I think I saw a black bear on the far bank,’ Chet said with surprise. ‘I did not know that black bears were in our part of the country,’ he continued. ‘He looked a bit like Gentle Ben,’ Chet observed.

‘Let us swim over to the far bank and see if we can find him,’ Billy B said. ‘There have been 10 sightings of black bears in Little Egypt,’ Billy B noted. ‘Perhaps he is lost and is looking for his home,’ Billy B mused.

‘Do black bears bite,’ Neva J asked? ‘When they are grown they are imposing figures,’ she added. ‘I saw one in Gatlinburg many years ago,’ she said.

‘Hello Mr. Bear are you lost,’ Jane asked? ‘My friends and I are enjoying our Saturday we have Oscar Mayer Weiners hamburgers Merlot wine and later smores around the campfire…will you join us for some campfire stories,’ Jane asked?

‘Oh what a lovely invitation can my Dad Smoky come also we are on holiday from our jobs at the Great Smoky Mountains National Park,’ Little Smoky said. ‘Have you ever seen the pictures of Dad with his Ranger Hat on and his admonishment, ‘Only you can prevent forest fires?’

‘This is a feast fit for a king,’ Smoky said joyfully. ‘Little Smoky and I wondered if we would make new friends in Little Egypt,’ laughed Smoky. ‘We would be honored if you all would be our guest at Cades Cove for Christmas,’ Smoky said.

‘Be sure and bring your swimsuits and snorkel gear we will swim in the Little Pidgeon River,’ Little Smoky called out…

Clouds fascinate me. They constantly change. Clouds remind me of life. They morph and project different images in minutes. You can not nail them down they are etheral.

Clouds look down at us earth dwellers and wonder what we are crying about. They say for us to adjust to changing weather patterns in our lives.

We seek to form our world into what our mentors say it is supposed to be. God delivered a magnificent place to live and we set about changing it into our own image. Much like a Golden Calf. We know best the way for our fellow humans to live. Somehow we have been given the keys to the Kingdom. Those unlike us must be subservient to us. They must humbly obey God-given directives.

Clouds laugh and oversee our confusion. ‘Live as the creation of the Creator,’ Clouds say. ‘Seek not a diminishment of his majesty but an enhancement of it,’ Cloud Friends say. ‘Look to your mystical surroundings to understand that we are all guests of the Master,’ say the Clouds…

We are all serious. The Bible tells us to put away childish things. We took that admonishment to heart. The Good Book also tells us that laughter doeth good like a medicine. We need some medicine.

The news gets us down. The stock market is soaring or in the tank. There are bills to pay and repairs to be made. School begins too early for the kids, just right for the parents. Deadlines to meet with no time to dawdle. Summer vacation slipped by again. Taxes will soon be due.

Humor carries me through. The song says Look On The Bright Side Of Life. ‘It is not doing the things you like to do but liking the things you have to do that makes life blessed.’

Being old is fun when you consider the alternative. Each day is magical with focus. What a rollercoaster ride taking our breath at every turn. Holding our arms in the air we giggle and scream with delight at every sharp turn.

I say silly or humorous stuff throughout the day such is my way. I enjoy Pastor Kerry due to his profound sense of humor. Humor pierces the darkness. Humor lets the light in. Humor is a balm of Gilead.

Some say they do not like the presumed Presidential candidate Kamala Harris due to her laugh and sense of humor. Her real sense of humor is endearing and illustrates her genuineness.

America has much to smile about. The Olympians from the United States are happy warriors. A smile turns away wrath. Peace begins with our inner self. As a man thinketh so is he…

I have said in August you can feel a hint of fall in the air. Today is such a day. It is a welcome respite to not have air you can wear. Autumn is my favorite season. The hope of falling leaves hot chocolate holidays and more is inspiring.

Maine is just around the corner. I love Maine. This will be our seventh Maine Holiday. Our dear friends Margo and Jeff will be joining us. It will be fun. When I am in Maine I am at home. Maine inspires me to write. Brock and I are working on a story about our Maine Adventure last year.

I purchased a pair of Skecher’s Slip-In Shoes for the airports and my Maine stay. Amazon had my size. I told MJ that I might get lobster next Tuesday in St. Louis until she reminded me that soon we would be in Maine where I would eat lobster daily. Lobster brings a smile to my face.

When I see folks who have never liked my Facebook photos before showing their approval…again a smile. Voracious describes my daily photo shoot. It affords me great pleasure. Shari has become my Facebook friend. I see her at Giant City occasionally. She is a lovely person with some wonderful friends accompanying her…Molly and Jade. They dutifully accompany her and they are good dogs.

I love the Olympics! The Olympics makes me feel the community of humankind. The participants zeal their dedication to their fellow athletes and the concept of fraternity is inspiring.

Aaron’s birthday is November 16th and mine is October 24th. We are Autumn People. I enjoy Halloween and my memories of Frankenstein Dracula The Mummy The Creature From The Black Lagoon and The Wolfman. As a youngster, I constructed several models painted them, and had them on display of the Universal Studios Monsters.

Christmas is the Holiday Of The Year for me. It has been since the days of Laughing Santa. I received Laughing Santa at 3 years old he was captivating. I turned the crank on his back and he cackled a most unusual expression of pleasure. Neva J Dad and I had our photo taken under our massive Christmas Tree and I was addicted to Christmas!

September began for me with the Jerry Lewis Telethon. This was a right of passage for me each year. Jerry’s demonstrated dedication to helping kids inspired me. My most vivid memory of MJ and my visit to El Paso, Texas was that there was a branch of the Lewis Telethon televised from the hotel we were at.

Each morning I awake searching for a surprise. Daily I find one…

It is another hot day in the neighborhood. The ‘Ber’ months are just around the corner. My favorite time of the year. MJ and I have been discussing what we will eat at a Seafood restaurant next Tuesday when we go to St. Louis for a doctor’s appointment. Yes, when you get our age you create fun around doctors. We talked with our good friend Jill on Saturday and agreed that we love St. Louis. It has been our city for 50 years, from the days of taking Aaron and Jonathon to see the animatronic Christmas Bears at the headquarters of Famous Barr and even before that. St. Louis is an accessible city that feels like home.

Fight we do the ravages of age. We refuse to go quietly into the night. Sundown may be coming but we want to be there to see it.

Shrewd are some of our leaders. They are adept at ascertaining what is politically expedient for their best interest. Who is looking out for our best interest?

Democracy is ruled by the people. The United States is the envy of the world. The American Experiment is unparalleled. The people choose their leader. Our hope for the future is a beautiful concept…an idea, not a race or creed.

We are in the fight. We tap dance our way toward heaven taking photos along the way. We laugh often and love the smallest things. Happiness is not an illusion it is reality captured on an eyelash or smile of another.

Sit down on the sandy beach of life and watch the magic of Sundown over the Ocean…