DO UNTO OTHERS

 Does it seem that bad news fills every day? Maybe that’s just my warped impression of the world, but I’m concerned. Our government is incapable of accomplishing anything. Instead, both sides delight in labeling opponents as “far right” or “far left.” The econonmy is struggling along, and prices soar each month. At the same time, jobs aren’t being created, and layoffs are growing. Believe me, I’m not condemning either side. Both sides of the aisle are own plenty of guilt.  

The above paragraph is intended to be an introduction to a recommendation to all people to watch the Netflix new movie “A House of Dynamite.” Rarely has any movie evoked in me such concern for the plight of our nation and our world. As the movie ran, the same feelings that I had when President Kennedy was assassinated. The identical cloud of dread that engulfed the US as true radicals flew planes into the towers billowed from the swept in.  

Many will say that they have no desire to watch a movie that brings so much pain. Then folks will add, “It’s only a movie.” I will address those statements with a line from this film: “This isn’t insanity; this is reality!”  

The government officials are incapable of working together. They can’t even meet in the same room. In years gone by, elected officials would argue with ferocity for their side, but in the evening, those same individuals would share a meal and return to being cordial and friendly. Now, neither side seems willing to even speak to the other. If these so-called leaders are unable to be civil to each other and work for the “common good,” how in the hell can they ever come together in the face of a major crisis? 

“A House of Dynamite” leaves viewers asking the same questions. This country and those who are against it have enough nuclear weaponry to destroy the world several times. Each year, the US adds more dollars to a defense budget to buy new systems, weapons, and gadgets. Yes, we might well have the world’s mightiest army and navy, but how much is enough? Don’t we, at some point, arrive at a time when we don’t need any more weapons? I especially wonder about our spending when I hear reports of the effectiveness of cheap Ukrainian drones on the Russian’s war machine. 

This very day, thousands are suffering as the government shutdown continues. The intransigence of Democrats and Republicans has created long lines at food banks. Anxiety for those who are affected is at a dangerous level. Being political isn’t worth a nickel when a man or woman and family are hungry, can’t pay the utilities bill, and are unable to pay the rent or mortgage. 

Common sense is in short supply in too many places right now. If our country faced the threat of a nuclear strike, such as the one in the movie, all the concern for talking points on each side would disappear. I doubt whether anyone would care to which party his neighbor pledged allegiance. The truth is that when troubles loom, the basics become the most important thing. Petty squabbles take disappear when survival is on the line.  

“A House of Dynamite” might be the best thing to come in the last few years. All of us need to watch it, to experience the feelings of desperation and hopelessness. Then, we can come to our senses and demand that our elected officials work together to ensure that this world will continue to exist.  I, for one, am exhausted from all the bickering between sides. We are all equal in the eyes of the Lord, so the time has come to accept one another and “to do unto others as we would have the do unto us.” It truly is that simple to fix problems of this world. 

TODDLERS

 Amy and I are blessed to have had two wonderful children. Lacey and then Dallas filled our young lives with all sorts of joys, and even the woes weren’t so bad when we look at them in hindsight. Our children learned the importance of an education, and both earned college degrees. No, that hasn’t made them better than others; those degrees just assured that they would have a chance, that more doors would open to them.  

We completed the first parts of our jobs when Dallas earned his degree. We always planned to be parts of their lives, but becoming “empty-nesters” was also exciting, even more so when we retired. Of course, the old adage that “man plans and God laughs” applies here. 

Amy wanted another dog after my Jack Russell Snoop died. I wasn’t big on it, but when it came time, I, in fact, picked out the dog from her picture. Sadie was meant to be ours. She’d already been selected, but the family gave her back when she had an accident in the house. See, our coming together was meant to be.  

This little girl, part Schnauzer and part Border Collie, came for a visit and never left our home. For the last 10-11 years, she’s been our baby. We’ve taken her with us on visits to Nashville, and the dog proved to be the perfect traveler.  

After Dallas passed, we had to decide whether to give up his dog Harvey for adoption or to keep him. In the end, Harvey stayed with us. He’s some kind of hound that was rescued during the time Hurricane Harvey hit Texas. Now, “Harve the Marve” is a different kind of pup. His hound characteristics are dominant.  

In the blink of an eye, our lives have changed. We are the parents of two toddlers, each that weighs somewhere north of seventy pounds. For us who are in our seventies, picking up one of them is a “back-straining-gut-buster!” According to research, a dog usually has the IQ of a three-year-old human. I think both are much smarter. 

One reason to marvel at their intelligence is their ability to tell time. Each and every evening, those two mutts rise from their places and begin whining barking, and looking deep into our eyes to make us aware that 5:00 has arrived and that we are tardy with food. Just like some men who worked hard days back in the ‘50’s our two canines expect supper to be served at 5, and not a minute later.  

These two can tell time at other times. Each evening, one or both begin a whine and include a pitiful look at 8:00 p.m. That’s bedtime for them. What they refuse to do is go to the bedroom alone. The expect me to deliver treats to them as the lie on the bed. Most nights, Sadie remains on the bed, but Harvey sneaks back into the family room. There, he hops on the couch and snuggles with me. Eventually, I head to bed and fight for a place to lie down and have at least a portion of the covers. Four of us fill the king-sized bed, and by morning, Harvey has wormed his way from the foot of the bed to some place between Amy and me.  

Our travel plans have severely changed. To be honest, we just can’t take two bigger dogs on vacations. A boarding facility is necessary, and that cost sometimes makes vacation a bit pricey. At that same time, both dogs are older, and neither of us wants to leave them for long periods of time. Leaving them home and having someone drop in doesn’t work too well. Harvey is prone to diving in the trash. He also becomes nervous and marks his territory with the raising of a back leg.  

Even though our later years have turned out differently, Amy and I aren’t complaining. Sadie and Harvey are loving dogs. Their barks are ear-piercing, but we know they’re protecting us. After supper, we all climb onto the couch. Once settled, the furry ones fall fast asleep until their internal clocks ring at 8:00 p.m., at which time they walk down the hall, hop on the bed, and enjoy a treat.  

Amy and I admit that we are trained. Our dogs have us on a tight schedule. We don’t mind. Being parents to two toddlers on four legs is a privilege. One thing is for sure: no one can ever love us more than Sadie and Harvey. That’s comforting to us old folks.  

KARMA

 In the late morning, I arrived at the dermatologist for my yearly full-body exam. I warned Danielle, the person I always see, that she might want to eat lunch before getting an eyeful of my old body. She laughed and replied that she could tough it out. Then she proceeded to freeze places on my forehead, neck shoulders and chest. For good measure, she took a sample of another spot on my back. I’m flabbergasted that things that I did in younger days are paying me back now.  

According to Danielle, what she treats when I pay a visit are effects of youthful sunburns caused by the lack of using sunblock. We had that kind of stuff for vacations, but during the rest of the spring and summer, we had nothing. Two chubby little boys ran around the yard shirtless. Sunburns were severe; we whined to Mother, and she fanned us in an effort to help. Eventually, that sunburn soaked into our skin left freckles, a bit dark complexion, and peeling skin.  

We did other dumb things in that past life that affected our present-day conditions. Mother was a fabulous cook, and we boys were unequaled eaters. We didn’t miss many meals; the heaping piles of food disappeared, and we washed it down with two tall glasses of milk. Crisco was the culprit. Foods bathed in the stuff, and that grease made everything taste better. Plenty of red meat was included in our weekly diet, whether it was served as a roast, a hamburger, or a meatloaf.  

We didn’t have poor eating habits back then. Moms cooked meals the way they’d learned to do. High blood pressure and cholesterol weren’t often considered major problems. However, now, many of us are swallowing pills every day to combat those problems. Our diets no longer include fried foods, except for an occasional trip restaurants or burger joints. Too many of us in this country are overweight, but we fail miserably to do anything about it. Heart disease and strokes are lingering around the corner and waiting for us.  

Some of us tempted fate and participated in activities that were bound to cause injuries. Because I suffered with excruciating headaches in football, I had to become a manager for the team instead. That sounded like a good way to stay with the team without suffering any injury. However, I managed to break an ankle as I carried dry footballs to officials during a rainy football game. To make matters worse, I had no ride and walked the roads back to the house.  

Over the next few years, I further damaged the ankle. In all, I’ve had six casts and two surgeries. Now, my ankle is flimsy. It offers no support and turns if I step on a stick or gravel. My assertion is that all of the neck, back and leg problems I’ve endured over this life began on that rainy night in 1968. 

I began smoking at a young age and puffed away on stolen cigarettes from my parents’ packs. Daddy caught and whipped us, and that’s when I gave them up. When I was a freshman in high school, I picked up the habit for real. I fogged family, friends, and dates with cigarettes. I was a slow learner, so not until Daddy, Mother, and my brother Dallas died from cancer did I put the smokes down for good.  

These days, my breathing could be better. I’m sure my lungs are scarred from the smoke and toxins from those “cancer sticks.” Smoking kept me from having wind enough to run a single mile until I was in my 40’s. The years of smoking aren’t my best ones. I wasted money and health for a habit that controlled my life. Finally, I kicked the smoking habit in my early 50’s.  A prayer that cancer won’t make a visit is offered often.   I’ve seen the brutal effects of the disease.  

This piece might make others think I’m complaining. That’s not my intent. I just am shocked that so many acts from youth have come back to bite me in the butt. It’s true what folks say about Karma.