It is a lovely day in Southern Illinois. We eagerly anticipate the arrival of Marcy and Brock. Or I as I last referred to him,’ Puddin.’ Of course by some stretch of the imagination I had achieved the nickname of, ‘Big Girl’ in Maine and I do not recall just how it happened. We had a wonderful time and stayed in a haunted house. We also had much fun with the word derivative, ‘Feckin.’ I think I had a bit more fun than even Brock, if possible.

So today will be a Holiday At Home for the Brooks. We have snacks, cool beverages, and Killing the Fatted Calf this evening at Global Gourmet.

Last night was the beginning of The Holiday with Jonathon’s Birthday Dinner at the Freight House in Paducah, Kentucky. The Shephard’s Pie was the best that I have had in a restaurant. At times I have taken to calling Aaron 42 and Jonathon 40. Where did the time go? MJ and I have been married for over 46 years and are planning on enjoying another Holiday when we reach 50…perhaps another Fatted Calf and a Dirty Martini.

As I looked at MJ last night I thought as I often do, how pretty she is. She is whip-smart and beautiful and she would do anything for her children. Aaron and Jonathon are fortunate to have such a mother…

In about 2 hours Jonathon turns 40. He was born near midnight and MJ and I thought he might be born on Friday the 13th. He was an explorer from the beginning and soon was climbing out of his crib and the sound of his feet hitting the floor and his infectious laugh!

Jonathon is a patient man. He loves everyone. I have never heard him gossip. He does not judge. When he is hurt he returns kindness. He like his brother Aaron illustrated for me what I wish I could have been at their ages.

Jonathon and Aaron are out with their friends as I am writing. They have a lot of friends. Their Mom is the love of my life and my sons and MJ are my entire reason for living.

I falter a bit but they do not remind me…they are kind and they are good. Birthday Dinner in Paducah tomorrow night and then a visit with Brock and Marcy on Saturday and Sunday or a banner birthday weekend…

Neva J sang the song, ‘We Are Marching To Pretoria,’ often and with gusto during my formative years. It seemed to be a song of inspiration in the 1960s and a motivational song for her to sing to inspire me.

Billy B understood when he heard Neva J sing the Marching song that it was time to get up and get going and do what a good man or boy needed to do. Excuses were plentiful but results were what she required.

Marching to Pretoria was a popular song in the ’60s and was in several school books and sung in music classes of the day.

‘The women’s March took place on 9 August 1956 in Pretoria, South Africa. The marchers’ aims were to protest the introduction of the Apartheid pass laws for black women in 1952 and the presentation of a petition to the then Prime Minister J.G. Strijdom.’

For Neva J the song’s meaning was to get up and make something happen. This included working by the sweat of your brow on many occasions. Manual labor was often referred to as the chosen career for untold midwesterners. College was not our first goal and perhaps not our second or third. There were the coal mines, farming, and many factories in our region where men and women obtained their wages every Friday.

The march to Pretoria was synonymous with our shared march through life with all of its vacillating vicissitudes and vagaries. Through the good times and those which are not so good we march on. Life is movement. Success is getting back up after you are knocked down.

Own your actions even those that in retrospect may embarrass you a bit. If what you have done represents who you are then it is original and unique.

There is no road map…there is the march to Pretoria…

‘To build your own, get a carton and cut a hole in one side, big enough to poke your head through. Paste white paper on the inside surface that you will be facing. Then punch a pinhole into the opposite side, high enough so that the little shaft of light will miss your head.’ Life magazine. ‘A final word from Life: ‘Don’t forget to come out for air.’

‘Well here we are in the year of our Lord 1962 and we are going to have a total Solar Eclipse in February,’ said Chet triumphantly! ‘Mr. Gray said that it must not be missed and gave us all instructions on how to safely view the Solar event that he got from Life magazine, he continued.

‘I hear that President Kennedy and Jackie will be using the Viewing Box to take in the bloting out of the Sun, Jane said. ‘Wouldn’t it be cool to watch it with your eyes directly, she added.

‘You do know that my friend Mylo gave me special glasses to see the Eclipse through that will enable the viewing of it without any danger,’ Billy B said as he smiled a wide toothy grin. ‘Mylo is from out of town and he told me where but I did not recognize the name of the place where he lives, Billy B went on to say.

‘Was it near Pounds Hollow as I recall you talking with a rather strange fellow when we were there last summer,’ Neva J asked? She noted that he was wearing a silver jumpsuit and removed a helmet from his head so that I thought he might have been diving in the lake.

‘Mylo told me that he was from Mars and had seen the Sun and the Moon close up and had even walked on the Moon,’ Billy B answered. ‘I thought that he must be from Harrisburg as you know they are prone to tall tales,’ Billy B laughed.

‘Can you get some more of the special glasses for Neva J Chet and me,’ Jane asked?

‘Your wish is Mylo’s command as he left a pair for each of you,’ Billy B exulted!

‘Oh my goodness I see the Sun perfect and the Moon gliding across its face,’ Neva J said as she laughed a giddy laugh.

‘You know this is a bit of a spiritual experience, Billy B said with a tear in his eye.

‘Have you looked around you as we are not in Eldorado anymore,’ Chet queried?

‘Welcome to Mars my friends and please do not take your glasses off until we return to my home as they are providing you oxygen, Mylo said with a smile.

There was quite a crowd at Blue Sky Vineyards today. Music playing and picnic on the ground.

As I peered through the Eclipse glasses I noticed that the Sun was reducing dramatically. Soon it was a sliver of itself. There were Eclipse T-shirts and Eclipse wine glasses.

The feeling of awe and inspiration during the almost 5 minutes of Totality was palpable. Crickets began to chirp and the birds headed for their nests only to see a very short night.

We discussed that the next solar eclipse is 20 years from now and were speculating about whether we would be around to see it. Although time goes by quickly. A bit like a Weaver’s Shuttle.

Life is like a rollercoaster, up and down and side to side. Somewhat like the Sun rarely is eclipsed but when it is it is a doozy.

Jonathon told me that the Eclipse Party is still going strong in Carbondale. After all, you do not have a total solar eclipse every day.

As I was snapping photos of the Chalk Art drawn by students from high schools across Southern Illinois there was a young man about college age who was merrily skipping between the masterpieces and photographing each. I had not seen anyone skip in a long time.

A total solar eclipse is a reason to skip. This is a special time. Our somewhat sleepy city is alive with people concerts and vendors of all sorts. Cannabis is legal in the Land Of Lincoln and it might aid in the skipping.

Help and hope come from mysterious places. We are a species who are addicted to extremes. Some of us are totally focused on what our minister and church believe and our literal interpretation of every word of the Bible… except those that we do not like. Some of us are extremely dedicated to science and what it tells us. Jesus is like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Some of us seek to understand the infinite.

Solar Eclipse will mean different things to different people. It will be a harbinger of disaster for many. It will be a beautiful event for others. It will be a reality check for some that we live in a riddle wrapped in an enigma.

As we peer into space and the event of a lifetime we see ourselves looking back. We are constructed from atoms and atoms do not die. We are looking at where we came from and pondering the way back.

Activity is markedly increased in Carbondale today. Streets are blocked and vendors are out in full regalia. 50 thousand folks are here or on their way to join us in the last solar eclipse for 20 years. A member of Congress commented that God is sending his signs of displeasure with a recent earthquake. Ms. Greene includes her admonition for all to pray as the solar eclipse is coming on Monday and is a further sign of God’s wrath. I am not disputing that the ways of God are often difficult to understand…but earthquakes and solar eclipses we do understand.

I have heard on more occasions than I care to remember comments regarding the illnesses of our fellow human travelers as a clear sign of God’s displeasure. It becomes more curious when the person assigning blame on behalf of God is the one who is ill or encounters the vagaries of nature.

Now as we gaze through our eclipse glasses on Monday and marvel at the miracle before us, there are things we do not understand beyond our little blue planet.

Einstein told us regarding time, ‘in physics know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.’ ‘In other words, time is an illusion.’

‘Time appears to pass normally to a person in strong gravity, while a clock in weak gravity runs fast. While to the person in weak gravity, the clock appears to run normally, and the clock in strong gravity runs slowly. Time is slowing down and speeding up because of the relativistic way mass warps space and time.’

Scientists ask, ‘If time is relative, am I already dead?’

‘If there is no perception of time before we’re born or after we die, is the existence of time relative or absolute?’

So there is a lot that we do not know. We listen to political leaders who assure us they have a direct line to God and speak on his behalf. Their embarrassing archaic view of faith is pugilistic.

We will look to the sky on Monday as our ancestors and their ancestors before they did. Unified in our desire to be a part of something bigger than ourselves we seek to understand. War misogyny and marginalization have not succeded in enriching our understanding. We have been coned so often that it feels normal. We want our jailers to like us and love us. We desire to curry favor with the master as we work in the hold of the ship rowing to the destination that the Boss wants us to take him…as we look to the sky and realize that somehow we have missed the point and the vision…the purpose of our being…

I noticed yesterday as I was enjoying my Woods that the workers were making and installing numerous No Parking signs throughout Giant City. Giant City will be full of Eclipse watchers for the next few days. We live in the section of the United States that will have the best view of the total solar eclipse on Monday. Seven years ago was our last solar eclipse. I have often described the viewing of it as a religious experience. We watched from Blue Sky Vineyard and plan on doing the same on Monday. It is estimated that over 50 thousand people will travel to our region to have the ultimate experience.

The spirit and camaraderie among eclipse watchers is unifying. Suddenly it dawns on us that we are all, ‘In the same boat on a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty.’ G.K. Chesterton.

Republicans and Democrats alike can enjoy the shared experience with even Independents. Those of faith no matter what it is live under the same Sun. Those of no faith are our brothers and sisters.

It seems that none of us have cornered the market on the Sun. We all are on the most magnificent and mysterious ride of our lives throughout space and time.

50 Thousand people are not coming to Little Egypt to sample our wine although it is wonderful. Indeed they are not coming because a religious leader or politician recommended them to come. They are coming to witness something bigger than them. We want to see a celestial event devoid of hyperbole and grift. Something that surpasses our petty grievances and strife with each other.

We seek him here and we seek him there we seek him everywhere, the demned elusive Pimpernel. We are waiting for Godot.

We eschew the easy postulations of our reason for being. Are we as great as we think…or are we bit players on the magnificent stage of life?

What would we think if we could view our Earth from the edges of the Milky Way? Would we ascertain that some of us are irrevocably right and the rest of us are lost in the degradation of our race or religion or marginalization?

Are we the ants on the anthill? Are we in the stone age of development? Does God love us perfectly and say, ‘Bless their hearts…’

Yesterday I saw old yellowed newspaper photos on Facebook of me and my high school graduation class in 1975. They were published in the Eldorado newspaper The Daily Journal. I was amazed that the picture did not look as bad as I recalled. Nothing would satisfy Neva J other than for the picture to be professionally taken which was not the usual order for business for my likeness. I do recall being impressed that the photos were printed in the Journal and believe I probably kept a copy for several years until it was lost in the detritus of moves and change.

I vividly remember knowing that I was soon to strike out on my own at the ancient age of 17. I was quite certain that I had the answers to life’s persistent questions. I learned as I traveled that I had few mentors and few detractors. Most life skills I picked up through empirical study. Neva J used to say ‘Monkey see monkey do’ so I aped what I observed others do that seemed to be successful.

As time progressed I developed my own style and distinct personality. Authenticity is compelling. It is also refreshing. Representing yourself is a genuine manner of displaying who you are to the world.

I heard a person say the other day that many people do not want to do the hard work of making their own decisions. They seek a leader for their lives. Someone who will purportedly perform the research to determine what is best for them.

Hitler had a plan for Germany. It was developed from his sick mind and narcissistic persona. His delusions of grandeur caused the death of 6 million Jewish people as well as the devastation of his country. He was regular in appearance and underwhelming. Hitler was a failed artist who melted into a crowd. He was a true study of the banality of evil.

When you encounter a genuine fellow human being who is not dressed in the mask that they wear in public they are captivating. They are unfiltered and unashamed of their skills and beliefs and revel in the personality that God gave them. They carry a sense of place with them wherever they are.

We were the Baby Boomers in 1975. Not the first of the Boomers nor the last but clearly identified with the group. We hoped to obtain a good job a nice car and a fine retirement where we could travel. We came from a little coal mining town and we hoped to see and experience bigger places. We had seen years of the Vietnam War and knew people who had served and who had given their lives in the conflict. The 60s really did not conclude until 75 in many ways. We were going to change the world and then become part of what we had intended to transform.

50 years beyond 1975 seemed like Alice In Wonderland or 2001 A Space Odyssey. Nothing seemed to change and yet we were entering one of my favorite television shows of the 60s…The Twilight Zone…

Spring brings storms. Tornadoes are a frequent occurrence in our midwest home. I have mentioned previously my stepfather’s habit of escaping a bad thunderstorm by proclaiming in the deep night, ‘Let’s run to the car…and Jay bring Cheetah!’ Now Cheetah did not like the sight of me and regularly let me know by her upturned lip and the revealing of several sharp cannine teeth and a low ominous growl. I first did not understand the wisdom of getting in a little car and hoping to outrun a fast-moving tornado nor did I want Cheetah to join me in the fool’s errand…

So it goes with today’s quest to excuse and defend politically powerful people to say whatever hurtful thing that they choose about anyone who tangentially ends up in the crosshairs of their hate speech.

Truth has become fiction and fiction is now lauded as the truth. I grew up hearing about the Antichrist. There was a great fear that this individual would be so mysterious and wise like a serpent and difficult to detect by even the wisest men and women that he would deceive all that listened to him. Somehow in this future deceiver, the message of Christ and his walk of humility and peace would be changed by the AC and the people of the distant future would never know when it happened it would be so insidious…

Jesus never spoke much about money…’ Render unto Ceasar the things that are Ceasars and unto God the things that are Gods.’ He mentioned that he had nowhere to lay his head. Today the goal is money and the more the better…as a blessing from God for doing his will. Again, in my youth, I read Fox’s Book Of Martyrs which discussed the countless Christians who were killed simply for their belief in Christ. I suppose they did not get the ‘Money Message!’

A Mob is a scary thing. Palm Sunday illustrated the love at the moment the people had for Christ riding on a donkey through the streets of Jerusalem as they lay palm leaves in front of his path. A few days later they cried crucify him…and chose the murderer Barabbas instead of the Messiah who they had lauded as their king a few days before…what happened…