My sister Pat said to me many times over the years that I'm into symbols. Perhaps I even look through them as a lens of life. Well, I suspect this is true. But a question has popped into my mind that I have been unable to answer. I have always considered myself very patriotic, but am doubly confused by the symbol of the American flag people wear on their clothes. What is in their heads when they wear them to a public gathering? Do they assume that those of us not wearing this symbol are from Mexico or Canada? Are we less patriotic somehow? It might come down to, "My country, may she always be right, but my country right or wrong". Not the way I see it. What is right isn't alway indigenous to our native land.
My second attempt to join the Face crowd organization ended with identical results. Political ads from a fringe source kept appearing on my page. All efforts on my part yielded scant results. So I say to myself, much as I love the pictures and chit chat, the ads are like a slap in the face. Inner space pollution in an election year of rampant mania.
The reunion went well. I was a little apprehensive at first. It had been forty years since the last one. Name tags with pictures really filled the gaps. My rule of thumb is never to wear a name tag at a social gathering, but this time it was helpful. The past wasn't really the topic of conversation in most cases. Life's work, number of spouses, married or un-, never really entered into most conversations. Group think mirrored Henry Ford II's statement when he was spotted out with his secretary, "Don't complain, don't explain." Metaphysically akin to the Eastern belief, "Be here now", for we were all certainly in the present. Perhaps the biggest rush was the total sense of being "Accepted and accepting"
My question for today is it possible to recant? When you separate the word parts the prefix re-(to do over) coupled with the verb and its negation, cant (contraction-can not)leaves an impossibility. How can you re-do, what you couldn't do in the beginning? Two things in mind here. Galileo, a proponent of the concept that the sun was the center of our universe had to reverse himself in the face of political pressure. The rancher, who discovered the flying saucer in Roswell, had to come back to the papers three hours later and say, "It was only a weather balloon". Looks to me like a Black Swan(the Impact of the HIGHLY IMPROBABLE).
Ever a tracker of Mac, I installed Mountain Lion last week. Of the 200 new features, the innovation that I wanted most to implement was iCloud. Going to iTunes, the cloud gave me the ability to download again the twenty four hundred songs that I had bought over the last ten years. Many of these songs I had already misplaced. The process took about six hours but worked like a charm, as the Beatles would say, "Baby, You're a Rich Man." Then I stepped forward for a new coup. "What if I coordinated calendars on the IPhone, iPad, Mac Air, and the Mac Pro?" Sure enough, another glowing success ensued. Now, I had the same two events for August listed in five locations. Of course, the need isn't that great for such a capacity, but it was the "Achieve of, the mastery of the thing" that carried me over the top. A couple of hours later, I open the calendar with great anticipation. My two events are gone, along with most of my contacts! When I tried to recover this information, I cleverly erased the 750 songs that I had placed on my phone for traveling. Clearly, there are a lot of things about clouds that I still need to learn.
August 11 this year is my fiftieth class reunion. I have missed most of them through the years, but this one will be a goal of mine. I remember saying to Wm T. in the second semester of my senior year that I was going to quit school. I was hoping for a reaction of sorts or at least a few words to talk me down. "Go ahead, you'll only hurt yourself." Taking that practical advice, I went on to graduate. One year later, Hope (ever the social engineer) suggested I move in with Bill. I couldn't turn my mother down, but the thought seemed incongruous to nth degree. Free at last, why would a guy choose to live with his dad? We both stuttered severely, but that wasn't the impediment between us. We didn't really know each other well in a conversational sense. He talked, I listened. As luck would have it, those years in the Bat Cave are still some of the best in my live.
Seems like only a fool would say it, but here goes, "I Love my truck." So, as I shift from town to town, a mystery picked up speed. This little bugger (4 wheel drive, 5 speed, 5 cylinder ) had been averaging 25-27 mpg so to class the mask up, I added a tonneau cover. The advertising claimed it would add a ten percent increase in mpg, but I wasn't fool enough to even anticipate that outcome. Reverse engineering! The miles per gallon went down to twenty four (what kind of a deal is this?) Today, the painter in the postoffice parking lot told me he smelled gas. We investigated, and sure enough, my love was leaking that precious commodity.
Day two was unlike day one. Wagner Park in Huron County was absolutely beautiful! I have never seen any park, any where, that would ever compare. When morning broke, the cooking fan did too. A ladder on loan and some duck tape later, we were ready to hit the road with some misgivings and an inept repair. Hoping to camp closer to home, we were able to find a site on Troll Rd which was aptly named. Passing up this opportunity, we moved to South State Park on Higgins Lake. Motown under canvas, no rest for the wicked here. I bolted and camped at home for day two.
