DAYDREAMS

 One of my favorite songs from my teenage years is “What a Day for a Daydream” by the Loving Spoonful. It was mellow and light enough to bring a feeling of “all’s right with the world.” In opposition to that positive feeling, I remember teachers’ squawking at some students as they told them to “pay attention and quit daydreaming. Recently, I heard Lily Meola’s song “Daydream.” It is an anthem for people to go for the things in life that mean most, to turn those dreams into reality. 

I don’t remember having ever daydreamed. The reason for that is my inability to sit still for any length of time. Neither have I ever considered daydreams to be thoughts of what a person really wants from life. However, after listening to Meola, I’ve changed my mind. 

I’ve wanted plenty of things in this life. As a teen, I wanted to be popular; I didn’t want a girlfriend to break up with me. I planned to be a choir director in a high school, but when I reached college, I was further required to take advanced French since I had two years of it already. In the high school classes, I made  B’s, and in the second year, D’s and F’s were my grades. The chances of my passing advanced classes in French were slim and none. I gave up my dream and decided that I’d be an English teacher instead, a decision that proved to be a good one.  

The late Reverend Bill Menees pushed me until I asked Amy out. After our first date, I knew that she was the girl I would marry. I daydreamed about her constantly and spent so much time at her home that her mother said every time she opened the door. I was standing there. I refused to let Mary Alice run me off, although years later I understood why she was so put out with me. Still, being with Amy was the most important thing to me. We’ve had rough times, but we stuck together and worked them out. Our rewards for surviving those first years were two wonderful children and a full, happy life. 

The writing bug hit me late in life. I found an itch that I could never scratch. Even to this day, I love to sit down and try to create something that has at least a bit of value. When I first began, some people in the profession told me to forget about finding someone to let me write on a regular basis. I wasn’t giving up on my daydream, and thanks to some luck, kind publishers and editors, and the good Lord, I am still banging out things twenty years later.  

The song “Daydream” tells listeners that what we want the most should scare the hell out of us. I know that the thoughts of not being with Amy, not teaching, and not writing shake me. I’ve given my best to keep those blessings healthy and major parts of my life.  

I hope that if nothing else, those who read this think of the things that are important in their lives. Then I hope they go for those things and become fearless during the pursuit. them. Don’t settle for something less than the ideal thing for you. That will make your life fuller and happier. The struggle won’t be a burden; it will be a journey toward what you’re meant to have.  

HUGS AND CUDDLES

 I looked over the other night, and our dog Sadie was asleep beside Amy. When I half-asleep walked into the bedroom, Sadie had managed to lie so close to my wife that the poor woman was hanging on for dear life.  

No doubt about it, Sadie is a cuddler. Evenings at home find the three of us sitting on the couch. One night, the dog will lie beside Amy; the next night, she’ll curl between my legs when I raise the recliner. If she’s in an especially needy mood, she stretches her upper body up my torso and places her head on my chest.  

Some nights, my lovable mutt warms my side of the bed. She sprawls her long body there and falls into a sleep that resembles a coma. I roll her over on her back with legs straightened and locked. At least, I have enough room to get into the bed, even if the covers are trapped under the canine’s butt.  

When our children were toddlers, they loved to wake up in the mornings and run down the hall to our room. They’d climb on the bed and flop between us. Sometimes they would fall back to sleep, but most often they lay there and jabbered about all the things on their minds. When both children piled into our full-size bed, we were cramped in a tiny space, and I quickly decided to the time to rise had come.  

The best cuddles came when Lacey or Dallas finished bathing and came pajama-clad to sit by us. They leaned in and found comfortable places. Before long, their heads began bobbing, and we’d lead them to bed. 

Before long, the cuddles all but ended. Teens aren’t likely to hug parents, and they are much too busy and cool to do something like that.

However, if one of those young’uns wants something special or has committed an offense that is likely to bring on punishment, she’ll cuddle as a means of getting what she wants or avoiding punishments. The only other time when a cuddle might come is when a heart is broken. Losing a boyfriend or girlfriend feels as if the world is coming to an end, and assurance comes best at the side of a mom or dad.  

I’ve never been much of a cuddler. Mother always said that Jim and I were too full of energy to sit still for any time. I do know when I had the mumps and measles, I’d have welcomed her hugs, but the poor woman was bedridden with the mumps herself. We did fall into each other when Daddy died. During her illness, we sat together and patted her to ease the pain she endured.  

Amy has always liked sitting together and cuddling as we watch a movie on television. I always seemed to hurt in the exact places where her head lay on my shoulder or where her arm crossed mine. During these older years, I find the benefits of cuddling with my sweet wife. She reassures me that our life together is good and that our future is bright.  

This world could use plenty more hugs and cuddles. We need to let others in our lives know how special they are. It does require a bit of time. These days, so many distractions require our attention, but the relationships between people make those unimportant things in life easier to handle. Figuratively, the folks who represent us in our government need to stop and give each other a hug. Maybe the best way for them to run the country is by starting each session by giving multiple hugs to those on the other side of the aisle.

 

Next time you see someone struggling, put an arm around that individual or take a seat next to him and offer support, understanding, and a little love. It’ll go a long way.  

A WALL CAN TEACH US ALL

 I watched the State of the Union message.  Senators and members of the House mingled for several minutes before the official proceedings began. The cameras showed what one might have thought was a meeting of good friends. However, when the gavel struck, it was as if the bell for the first round of a prize fight had begun.  

The GOP side interrupted the president. They blamed him with too many illegal immigrants, pooh-poohed his pledge to veto bills, and screamed “Liar” at the leader of the country. The Democrats proved to be rowdy as well when they whooped and cheered for some proposed legislation that the opponents find unacceptable. All in all, it was a night that lacked any signs of bipartisanship or respect. 

The U.S. democracy lags in second place to a speedy, dark opponent: extremism. Leaders of the race are the fringes of both parties. The loss to either side is the death knell to democracy. The American people seem to have forgotten the importance of a democratic country, a free homeland. How sad and discouraging that is.  

My son-in-law is responsible for the writing of this column. He developed a site on You Tube recently. His intentions were to save old VHS tapes from his youth. The title of the site is “darkWorkOne.” it is a compilation of touring by his family during the time the Air Force stationed his dad in Germany. The film covers those adventures in 1989. What is captured are the two worlds of that country one day and the reunification of it the next. 

Nick’s family took a tour of Berlin. Part of the trip covered the Eastern section, the portion of Germany on the communist side. The bus stopped at Check Point Charlie, and Nick remembers that the stop as a scary time.  

On the other side of the wall, Berlin was stark. Old buildings stood, some of them leftovers from World War II. They were bombed out shells. An eerie quiet filled their ears. Folks weren’t stopping to talk to visitors. Perhaps they feared the reactions of soldiers eyeing every move.  

On the western side, life much more resembled what Americans enjoy. Shops and tourist attractions welcomed travelers. Still, the wall loomed across the city, and between sides lay “no man’s land,” a much farther distance than I had realized. Individuals had to cross that barren stretch of ground to reach freedom in the west. The names of those who failed were printed on large white crosses, and some were infants. 

The next day, November 9, a different mood existed. The films that Nick’s dad recorded showed a slow drip of people swell to a tsunami of individuals and vehicles swamping checkpoints used to cross into freedom. Escapees streamed to the west, and when a siren sounded, their paces quickened. At those crossing points, West Germany residents and tourists met them with smiles, hugs, and pats. Nick and his family handed out candy to children in cars and flowers to women who had finally found freedom.  

It was that collection of films that made me feel so sad for our own country. I urge everyone to watch Nick’s films from the day before and the day of the knocking down of that wall. There you will see the great joy and unspeakable thanks for democracy. Those people who’d been captive in the WW II world of Berlin left the gray skies for sunny ones. They walked into a life of possibilities. Freedom became sacred, and it was worth defending.

Go to You Tube and search for darkWORKONE .