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Singer/Song Writer – More Past, Present, and Future

Continuing, somewhat, on last week’s theme, I have had hopes and dreams for my music for many years. My writing and composing flourished in the early 2000’s. I recorded some of the early music in 2013, creating the album Catching Up On Life.

During and since that time I have written a plethora of lyrical poems. For many I have composed guitar accompaniments. Subjects for these songs include close family, people I worked with, acquaintances, and personal experiences. Most have not been recorded.

I’ve always wanted to share my songs with, well, anyone who would listen. I hoped, and continue to hope, that the lyrics evoke memories and/or emotions for at least some in an audience. My music, though simple, has evolved into an easy-listening style. I admit that I like my songs and poetry. Some have told me they enjoy it and relate in some way.

But I never gave my hobby my complete attention. I never committed to learning enough or practicing enough to get really good – good enough to go professional. I have dedicated time over the last two and a half years. However, that time was not enough for me to feel comfortable going on the road. Sure. I am comfortable playing for small groups of mostly known people. But I am not “good” enough to play public venues. Now I am convinced that I never will be.

Which brings me back to the link with last week’s them of past, present, and future. My hopes and dreams are evolving. I am still creating. I still believe in my music. I like most of it and believe I have something to say and a way to share it.

Now, though, I have a new dream. Some day, someone with professional knowledge of music will listen and say, “This is good stuff. I think I can get ? (unknown artist) to record this and get it distributed for the public to hear.”

I have a hope that I can find someone to help me make demo recordings. I don’t have the means to hire a bunch of studio time. Especially considering I lack professional vocal and musical skill for a finished product. As I’ve said before, I can’t seem to figure it out for myself.

My voice and my hands have limited time to produce the songs I want to sing. I do not read nor write music. I just play it. So I don’t have hard (or digital) copy. My lifespan is uncertain. But certainly shortening. I know my songs will be my legacy to my family and close friends. I had hopes for more. I guess I still do.

A few years ago I looked into software that would transpose my guitar notes into sheet music. I was not impressed. I am taking another look for newer, more user-friendly options. If anyone knows of one that is worth paying for, please let me know. Thanks.

Short of that, I have to find a way to record. I think it needs to be better than my phone (sound quality issues). But less sophisticated than a mixer (unless someone wants to help me out 😉 ).

Well, this post has certainly turned into a personal muse and plea. But it does reflect some looks at the past, realities of the present, and views of a possible future. I wonder what it will bring. I wonder if I will dedicate myself to fulfilling more of my hopes and dreams. I suspect all of you have similar questions about how you will fulfill yours. I hope you are successful!

Past, Present, and Future

Read if you will. Or just accept my wishes that you have had a good holiday season, and for a happy, healthy new year!

This contemplative message comes to you as we transition from religious and national holidays of the season to celebrating the beginning of a new year. I am unsure of its edifying value. Mostly I muse and wander, skirting around feelings that have emerged as another post-Pam holiday season approached. Read if you will. Or just accept my wishes that you have had a good holiday season, and for a happy, healthy new year!

Past
Present
Future
Living in the Past, Present, and Future

Past

Youth have no past of their own. Few, if any, memories to dwell on. They learn of their past from those within their circles. Family, family friends, school, religious affiliations. Youth develop a past as they age. They typically become aware in their teens. And while learning their past, they start to question. Some learn life’s lessons early through both happy and tragic experiences.

Adults carry their past with them as they bound along life’s highways and byways. All the while adding to the volume and depth of past experiences. The past molds their outlook on life. It impacts their decisions. It is integral to their thought processes. Their past is both a blessing and a curse.

Later in life our early past often lies latent. Only surfacing when reminded. More recent past begins to emerge as repeat experiences. Sometimes melding and becoming confused as intermingling fibers of new and well-worn clothing. The past continues to guide us. And yet we have forgotten so much!

The past is both a teacher and a burden to the aged. Wisdom comes from how we reconcile the past. Yet its weight is always upon us as we navigate what’s left of our lives.

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Present

We live in the present. Or do we? We meet each day anew. Yesterday is in the past. Tomorrow is unknown.

Youth experience each day with little expectation. Their limited past is of little help for the day. They rely on their wits and those whom they accept as having wisdom enough to guide them. Parents, siblings, peers. At the end of the day, they have added good and/or ill experiences to their past. Youth have yet to deeply contemplate the future.

Adults navigate life’s trials and tribulations. Relationships, work, family, social interactions. Though somewhat guided by the past, they are enough to fill the day. The past can straighten life’s paths or obscure roads from vision. The past can lift up or bring down. It does both from time to time. Each day’s decisions are based on past experience and hopes and dreams of the future.

The past envelops us as a binding or a blanket as it becomes the greater part of our life span. More of the day is spent remembering. We can be suffocated by it. We can embrace it. But we can’t escape it. Days are filled with memories. We remember past hopes and dreams for the future. We are on a destiny train to the future.

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Future

Youth do not understand the future. They have no experience to lead them on. Their concept of the future is forever. Their view of the future is couched in their learned past. They start to look to the future as they gather past experience. They develop a concept of what life will bring.

Adults look to the future from instinct. The drive to survive presses notions of sustenance, shelter, procreation. Adults develop plans. Some detail their every move while others press on with vague notions of direction. Aspirations. Hopes. Goals. Wishes. All are looking to the future.

Aging changes future perspective. The future is shorter. It is finite. Aspirations, hopes, goals, and wishes are either fulfilled or lost in the past. The future looks more toward legacy. What will be left behind to lend wisdom to others’ pasts? There is both fulfillment and emptiness as we contemplate Days of Future Past 1.

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Living in the Past, Present, and Future

Personally, this year’s season is a true mixture of the past, present, and future. I am aware of the weight and the wisdom of my past. Memories of holidays from my youth and adulthood mingle with my recent past. They include loved ones who are either gone or far away. We can no longer celebrate as once we did. Decorations, cards, and gifts now recall those memories. Memories of what was and is no more.

At the same time I feel excitement and contentment for what is now my life. New love, new friends, new surroundings add to the joy of being closer to family. Each day is new unto itself. Retirement affords me to choose to do, or not do, the daily tasks before me – within reason. I am thankful for the day.

As in the past, my present hope for your future is a happy, healthy new year!

Past
Present
Future
Living in the Past, Present, and Future

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  1. Album by the Moody Blues ↩︎

More Musings…

Word of the Week – Confabulate
Music – The Other Non-addictive, Mood-altering, Non-substance

Word of the Week – Confabulate

Let me first say that I tried to guess the meaning of confabulate before looking it up. I thought it meant something along the lines of blowing something way out of proportion. I thought my definition was a stretch. The “con” part seemed contradictory to making more out of something. But I took a shot. I wasn’t close!

According to Merriam Webster, confabulate is “to exchange viewpoints or seek advice for the purpose of finding a solution to a problem.” Synonyms include consult, confer, discuss, talk. It’s so common it seems we do it all the time!

Some confabulation is short. Like attempts to bring someone’s words to the surface – like an emotional response. Other confabulations, it seems, try to help develop a theme or a plot, or even a memory.

I can relate to confabulation with my age peers. Like me, they are having difficulty with recall of names, places, and people. We laugh at the effort it takes two or more people to remember any particular thing. We laugh to mask the fear that we are no longer at the top of our game. The reality of the effects of aging.

We often confabulate about where to go or what to eat. We confabulate to figure out how to deal with the weather. I am particularly honored when I get a text or a call from a friend or relative asking for my opinion or to help work through a difficult decision.

But I think I’m making light of the term. Webster’s explains the use of confabulate in much more serious context. Go there to find in-depth understanding. I just like the word as either a verb (confabulate) or a noun (confabulation). And thus ends the discourse on The Word of the Week.

Music – The Other Non-Addictive, Mood-altering, Non-substance

This image arrived in my text threads this week:

I take issue with the first descriptor in the above list. I believe I am addicted to music! Not just making it. Also listening. Music is so ingrained in me. Typically, I am silently (or not so silently) humming or singing a tune in my head. I wonder how I would get along without music!

Lyrics constantly pop into my head as I am listening and talking with others. Sometimes they are completely out of context. The topic of the song and our discussion are not close to the same. I blare out the lyrics in tune. Often they become a play on words. This also leads to research and confabulation to figure out the title and/or artist.

Music is definitely mood-altering. Again I say, “I wonder how I would get along without” it! Religious music had an early influence on my life. That influence changed with the works of Bob Dylan. The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, The Moody Blues, and many more also shaped it. It is often the music of my teens and twenties that come to mind in any given situation. Music of the 80’s and 90’s bounce around in my brain. Though I am less influenced by their genres.

Where would I be without my music?! I wrote my earliest, simplistic song while still in high school. I’ve written for and about women. I’ve written about family and friends. I’ve written about dreams and real experiences. Writing and playing my lyrical and/or instrumental music is cathartic! Music has seen me through some of my most difficult times. Aided my recovery. Given me purpose. It is a non-drug medicine!

Common side effects include but are not limited to uncontrolled head bobbing, toe tapping, finger snapping, selective hearing impairment and persistent melody flashbacks

I may have already covered “persistent melody flashbacks.” The rest is soooooo true! You know it is. Sing along. Even out of tune. Out of range. Out of time. You know you do it. It can’t be helped. Music is likely the most potent, readily available panacea for emotional injury. It requires no prescription. You need no insurance. If you are like me, you might not even need a fix. It’s just there!

I’ve done my share of drugs, drunk my share of spirits. Now I do yoga from time to time. I exercise often. Music may be addictive, mood-altering, and sometimes without physical form. But it is clearly one of the most valuable manifestations of human endeavors. If by some chance you are not hooked, I urge you to listen. Take it in. Let it flow through your veins. I doubt you will be disappointed. It may help you heal.

Word of the Week – Confabulate
Music – The Other Non-addictive, Mood-altering, Non-substance

In My Dreams

Old Abodes and Broken Highways tells the story of a recurring dream mixed with real experience. I find myself in a low-rent tenement area of some unknown yet large city. I don’t know how I got there. I fear unfamiliar and antagonistic people. The area is under the complicated structure of a highway mix master. This structure includes elevated, unfinished highways. High up in the air, they simply stop. They evoke an image of cars driving off the end. I have seen such highways in the Dallas Texas area. They are familiar. That angst is real.

Other recurring dreams find me trying to get somewhere, probably home. Sometimes I’m traveling across multiple states on unknown highways trying to figure out the map or GPS. Other times I try to find the right bridge. I need to get onto it and then off to reach the parking lot at an airport. Often those include images of waiting anxiously for flights that don’t take off. Or, worse yet, I am trapped inside. The prop-jet climbs from the terminal. We are in the midst of giant jets that nearly knock us out of the sky.

I am not alone. Sometimes I recognize people around me. Often I talk with people I don’t know. In living rooms, lobbies, terminals. All strange and uncomfortable.

In this particular dream, the discourse turns philosophical as I share my thoughts with a total stranger. “What if we lived forever? Would it not be better to be completely open with everyone we meet? Should we keep our innermost secrets to ourselves for eternity? Or would we all be better off just being real?”

“On the other hand”, said the stranger. “Would it not be better to keep those very personal thoughts to yourself? Everyone would see you differently with the knowledge.”

“Think of it like heaven”, I said. “In heaven, we are told, there is no fear, no anger. There are no tears. There is only happiness, peace, and joy. How can it be that we hold secrets from each other? Should they, would they, not be known?

“Would we even have dark thoughts? Things we want to hide or not share? Why must we wait for heaven to be real, to be whole, to love unconditionally?”

Waking up, I could not shake these thoughts. Surely, I am not alone in keeping thoughts to myself. It’s not that I have bad thoughts to hide. Though sometimes I am less than kind in my view of others. Often I feel that I would hurt this or that person by sharing what I am thinking. “If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.” My parents used to say.

But we spend so much energy trying to say the right thing. In fact, our whole society has devolved into forming our discourse to avoid any potential criticism, abuse, or defamation. I certainly don’t want to offend, just as I don’t like others’ offensive characterizations.

Obviously, this is only a mind exercise brought on by an unreal dream. Yet it does make me ponder life better lived if we just accept each other as we are. Surely someone will say, “In your dreams!”

Columns

I have a renewed appreciation for those who write newspaper or magazine columns. Especially those who must meet a daily deadline! I won’t distinguish between print and online versions. Here it is Friday morning and I am challenged with choosing a topic. So much so that I am writing about that.

Each day I get up thinking of what to write about. Sometimes it is something someone says. Other times an experience while on an outing or fulfilling my daily routine. Then I try to figure out an angle, a hook that captures the reader’s attention.

That’s where the trouble begins. What’s the title? Which direction shall I go? Is it worth anyone’s time to read? Will you continue reading this!?

Granted, most columnists have a plethora of current topics from which to choose. Politics is always a choice, as is the weather, social events, cosmetics. You get the picture. It depends on the general purpose for the column at all.

But what about the musings of a wandering mind (look below “Wut Javia”)? I have no edict, lest it be self-imposed. Staying away from politics and religion does limit one’s musing potential. Thus, here we are. I am writing a blog post about what to write about, and you are still reading it. What does that indicate “in a wiser world of bigger motor cars”1?

Well, anyway… Other thoughts of columns surfaced as I considered this message. Specifically, spreadsheet columns and columns holding up structures. All different. Are there even any similarities? Maybe the spreadsheets. I wonder.

Seriously, though. I am aware that some of you are writers. You can probably relate to the challenge. It would be good to establish a consistent theme say, travel, birds, weather, etc. But such would belie the wandering mind concept of this site. Interest. Relevance. Emotion. Comedy. Maybe even excitement. These words express my wish for this blog’s content. Rest assured I will strive to evoke them in the coming weeks, months, and years.

Meanwhile, I appreciate that you read this entire rant of insignificant fodder. I feel a responsibility to you all. Thank you for being here.

Just a bit more before I go. I continue to work on my music. Much of my practice time is spent on playing guitars and not so much on words. It is satisfying to try new riffs and “perfect” strumming and finger picking of established songs. New songs are coming to me. Lyrics and music alike. I have yet to figure out how to record them for publication. Hopefully, that will come along soon so I can share with you.

And… I always type my lyrics two columns to a page. Go figure!

I hope you all have a good week!

1From the album Thick as a Brick by Jethro Tull. A subset of the lyrics printed below:

You put your bet on number one and it comes up every time
The other kids have all backed down and they put you first in line
And so you finally ask yourself just how big you are
And you take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars
And you wonder who to call on

Back to the blog

“Welcome Back My Friends..

Three completely different musical events. All amazing. All exciting. All, literally, sensational!

To The Show That Never Ends…”

I keep thinking of Karn Evil 9 1st Impression, Pt. 2, by Emerson Lake and Palmer, as I contemplate my three-week absence from blogging. Even then, it was a desperation post coming before the election. That post was preceded by a one-week lag due to travel.

Well, welcome back. I kind of hope you missed me. None of this rambling has anything to do with the topic of this post. Except, I saw one of the performances I am about to discuss while traveling.


I have had the pleasure of attending three completely different types of musical performances over the past few weeks. I attended the first performance with my friend Cathy and two of my three sisters while visiting family in the Atlanta area. My younger sister bought tickets for a Judy Collins show at Byers Theatre in Sandy Springs for Jan’s and my birthdays.

We had months to anticipate the music she would play and the nostalgic feelings we would have while listening. Though the theatre is relatively new, it has the look and feel of a much older traditional venue. Judy walked onto the stage where her 12-string guitar and piano/pianist accompaniment were waiting. She entertained with a combination of songs and stories that did not disappoint. I closed my eyes and listened. I thought of the places and times I associate with the music. Her one-woman show exuded peace and serenity. It was delightful and fulfilling. Judy Collins is truly an icon of our time!

We attended A Motown Christmas the day after our return to Iowa. Hoyt Sherman Place is truly the epitome of a traditional theatrical venue. It is housed in the Sherman mansion built in the 1850’s.

In total contrast to the calm, soothing sense generated by Judy Collins, this was a high-energy, multi-sensory experience. The band was good enough to perform on its own. It featured horns, strings, drums, and piano. It was the perfect complement to four incredibly talented performers. They dazzled with flashy apparel, amazing harmonies, and wonderfully synchronized dance.

The concert was billed as a Christmas event. Still, most of the two plus hour show was filled with hits from the sixties greats. Songs of Dianna Ross and the Supremes and Michael Jackson accompanied hits from the Temptations, Contours, and Miracles. The plethora of medleys was intermingled with jolly holiday hits from our younger years. If they come back next year, or you see that A Motown Christmas is coming to your town, I highly recommend it!

Linda Robbins Coleman was a classmate of mine in high school. I did not know her well. She was always upbeat and smiling. I did not know her artistic genius even if she, at that time, did. You absolutely MUST visit her site. Linda also co-wrote the book Boyhood’s End with her late husband William S. E. Coleman.

Last Sunday I had the chance to watch and listen. The Des Moines Symphony played The Celebration: A Symphonic Jubilee composed by Linda. It has been played, along with her other works, all over the world. Linda’s piece was between two performances. Pianist Jon Kimura Parker played Gershwin on the piano with the orchestra. Then, the orchestra played Beethoven’s 8th.

We were thrilled to have a chance to talk briefly with Linda before the performance. It was the first time her music was played with this symphony. She was ecstatic. Her energy, contagious! So much fun. Her composition was excellent and expertly played. In fact, the entire concert was phenomenal!

We were further blessed with being invited to an open house in Linda’s honor at yet another alumnus’ home. Barbara Beatty M.D. is the President of the Des Moines Symphony board. Conductor Maestro Joseph Giunta, as well as several musicians from the orchestra, were in attendance. Several fellow alumni were also there, giving us a chance to have a mini-reunion.

Linda is 2nd from the right. Barbara is behind and to Linda’s right.

We enjoyed excellent refreshments and socializing with those we know, and with new acquaintances.

Three completely different musical events. All amazing. All exciting. All, literally, sensational!

It is nice to be back. I am happy to have an uplifting, enjoyable topic to write about. I’m still not sure what direction Wut Javia should go. But…

Welcome back my friends!

Crunch Time 2024

I have heard that some staunchly conservative churches, or at least their pastors, describe the choice for “Christian” voters as between the lesser of two evils. That the choice is policy over personality. Important policies like a total ban on abortion influence “real” Christians. Inclusive sexual orientation also influences them. These issues drive them to vote for the lesser of two “ungodly” persons for our next president.

Granted, I am not a religious person. But I have been around the block a few times when it comes to deities, dogmas, liturgies, and interpretations. Based on everything I have heard and seen during this election cycle, here’s my interpretation of their message:

I’ve tried really hard to keep my political opinions to myself. I share them only with those who most likely agree with me. They believe, as I do, that the former president is an existential threat. This threat is not only to our democracy but also to our very freedom. In some cases, potentially, our lives!

It is more evil to vote for a person who embraces individual freedoms. This includes how we take care of our bodies and who we can love and marry. It is even worse than voting for someone who is a proven habitual liar, philanderer, and thief – at best! One who not only blows with whichever wind will keep his ego inflated, but demands loyalty as to a god!

This perspective irks me in several ways. It assumes that true Christians support a total ban on abortion. It also assumes their narrow definition of relations between consenting adults. They say “The Bible clearly says.” But, several major Protestant Christian denominations support a woman’s right to choose. These denominations also recognize the science of gender variance.

The Bible clearly states many things (tongue in cheek). The interpretation of its statements are as varied as the people who wrote the words and all who read them. Many books have been written to parse the meaning of words, phrases, and entire sections of the Bible. Authors strive to decipher verses, chapters, and whole books. Many claim to know or to have been shown by God, the correct meaning of God’s biblical message. Thus, making them right and everybody else wrong. I also fear for those who sit before the pulpit. They believe they are hearing the Word of God. As a result, they vote based on the narrow interpretations of their church leaders.

Some say our nation was founded on tenets and beliefs of Christianity. Others believe that those who came fled religious and economic persecution. I haven’t read the entire constitution for a long time. But from what I remember, this country was built on the concept of freedom of speech and religion. It is a country where anyone willing to abide by basic social rules can live and work for a livelihood. These rules are loosely based, I think, on the Ten Commandments. This is regardless of race, religion, ethnicity or country of origin.

Have we attained a panacea? Have our leaders always done what is right? Have our citizens always chosen well who will govern? Nope. Not even close. Does that mean that our democracy is wrong? Should we discard it? So many have fought and died for democracy. Should we allow a person or power brokers to abolish it? Please say no! ( Can I get an Amen? 😉 )

I am writing this uncharacteristic post because I am afraid for our freedom. I am afraid that some people don’t see the danger. One candidate stated outright that he will reign as a dictator. Sure, he is doing things some want for now, but he will eventually dictate everything even to them. Whether we be Jews, Hispanics, Muslims, Blacks, Straight, or Gay, we all will lose! Eventually, anyone who disagrees with those in power will also lose! Bottom line – the man for whom some will vote to save them from what they perceive as the evil conduct of pagan heathen, will bring an evil. This evil is something our world has seen before. We had to fight against it and lost millions of lives to overcome it.

Sadly, these words will have no impact on the outcome of Tuesday’s election. Both sides realize that few minds are changed with political rhetoric. But if you think that what I am writing is worth sharing, please do so. Either copy and paste, or share the link to this page. I am Keith A Jaben. I am Keith Javia. I am the author of wutjavia.com. I am finally speaking out.

Seasons

Last week we were in Wisconsin. Chosen, at this time, for the opportunity to experience the rolling, tree-covered hills along the Wisconsin river, which led us to good friends near Madison. Thankfully, they accepted the self-invitation!

We were not disappointed. We seem to have picked the peak week for tree watching, so to speak. Earlier, we would have likely found too few multi-colored wooded knolls. Next week, with its cooler temperatures and frosty winds, the same vistas could be somewhat emptied of foliage. Saturday’s drive back through the hills, valleys, and riverways of Wisconsin and Iowa also kept us entertained.

As the leaves change to their reds, oranges, and yellows, thoughts turn to changing seasons. Those who reside in Iowa are fortunate to live in an area where we are treated to all four. I happen to like the times in transition from one season to the next. Though I love Autumn, my enthusiasm is dampened by the prospect of the long, dark, cold Winter ahead. I do like snow. It’s just the bitterly cold times of January and February that make Winter my least favorite time of the year.

Transitioning from Winter to Spring, well, we all know there are so many emotions, hopes, and dreams that accompany the revitalization of flora and fauna. The greens are so bright and vividly contrast the brown fields and grasslands still to be planted and sprouted. Fresh, (hopefully) moist air replaces the dry scent of winter. Pollens, though pesky for some of us, enhance the fragrance on the Spring breezes.

I like Summer! Longer days and the sun’s radiant heat bring richer shades of green, in the fields as well as the trees. Skies of azure blue show as mirrored on lakes and ponds. The heat bothers me less than the cold of Winter. Humidity typically feels better in my lungs than the dryness of Winter air. Though both extremes keep me inside at times enjoying conditioned air!

Once again to the return of Autumn. And though we know what’s coming with every change of season, each is unique in its manifestation. How vibrant will the patchwork of leaf colors be? How will moisture, or lack of it, affect plants and harvest? And if I be a bit concerned and political, how is our changing global climate affecting – everything?! I hope, for all of the earth, that we do what we can to keep the seasons, well, seasonal.

Happy leaf-watching!


P. S. Two Simon and Garfunkel songs came to mind as I began to write this post. I include them only as footnotes here because neither is particularly happy, at least by song’s end. I have enjoyed playing April, Come She Will for many years. Though I rarely play it anymore. The Leaves That Are Green tells another rather melancholy story. I will leave both to your listening and judgement.

Sailing

I can’t get this off my mind. Notably the song by Christopher Cross keeps bouncing around in my memory banks. Maybe writing about it will help.

I enjoy sailing more than most outdoor endeavors. Living on the shores of a lake many years ago I had a motor boat, a Sea-Doo, a wind surfer, and two sail boats at different times. Of them all, I most liked the sail boats.

Motor boats get you where you want to go – with minimal effort – but with noise and fossil fuels. Sailing, on the other hand, is a peaceful past time, even with the work of trimming the sails, tacking and gybing, and manning the tiller. Sailing, at least for me, was about the journey, not the getting there.

I never got onto the Sea-Doo too much. It scooted around the lake in a hurry, capable of twisting and turning in little space and time. But as a solo ride, I found it lacking for actually enjoying the lake. The motor boat was fun with people aboard and allowed us to tug skis or an innertube for the kids. The wind surfer was a rush! It was also a lot of work, made harder in that I never had a harness and thus was dependent upon only my arms to keep the mast vertical and the sail filled with wind.

Most of my memories of sailing are good ones. The mini-scow, like the one shown in this picture, was a lot of fun for solo sailing and also with two people. It was only fourteen feet long so…

It failed one day when my son and I took it out early (or maybe late, I don’t remember) in the season when it was chilly and windy. A couple hundred meters from shore we were leaning over the windward side in the heavy wind when the mast snapped sending us backwards into the chilly, choppy water in an instant. The mast caught my son in the head, fortunately without much damage done. We were both dazed, bobbing up and down with the waves, wondering what had happened. I think I remember being caught under the sail for a bit. I got a replacement mast but sold the boat to a friend shortly thereafter.

On to a wide-body day sailboat like this one only a bit smaller. I enjoyed tooling around the lake with a little more stability and comfort. It was great for two people to relax and enjoy the ride but still had enough sail, main and jib, to move across the water with relative ease.

Though I have moved recently, I still live near a large body of water and have seen sail boats in the distance when I venture to the lake. I am reminded how much I enjoyed sailing. It’s been years since I have sailed. I hope to glide quietly atop the water again some day soon. I think it will be like riding a bike, as they say. I can pick up again easily with what I knew how to do. Until then I’ll rely on fond memories and music to keep my hopes alive.

Renaissance Man

The grandson of a friend of mine recently referred to me as a renaissance man. I had to look it up to confirm its meaning, especially since he was referring to me!

It seems to be an apt description. I have had three distinctive careers, construction, project management, and teaching. I have dabbled in several trades and hobbies that may qualify me as one proficient in several areas. Thus, I take his reference as a compliment.

I was immediately reminded of one of my songs, Chameleon, in which I refer to myself thusly, “Jack of some trades, mastering none. Reds and purples hide your fear. Talk a good game for all to hear.” A rather different introspective that seems less flattering or reassured. It got me thinking again about how we perceive ourselves versus how others perceive us, and how our lives affect, and are affected by those we meet along the paths we walk.

Having returned to the area of my upbringing I continue to reconnect with those I know, and who know me, from my teenage years. I hear comments, both directly and indirectly, about what my peers thought of me then. Far different views than what I thought of myself or any notion of what they thought about me.

A friend reminded me that it was/is not just me. We were all trying to navigate the insecurities of our youth. Though some showed it less than others. I suspect that even they, with no outward admission, dealt with the challenges of budding maturity.

Last evening (Thursday) I was with a small group of people, three of which were actually high school classmates of mine, discussing the challenges of parenting adult children. Our guide recommended keeping our mouths shut, reinventing our relationships with our children, and learning to be mentors and coaches rather than being do this or that parents.

We compared generations. Our relationships with our parents – both directions. Relationships with our own adult children, and what a different environment our grandchildren live in today. They have never lived without the Internet and the plethora of technology.

Looking in the mirror, I see no resemblance to the boy in my high school picture. Nor can I point to many similarities in my new/old acquaintances from my past. We have all gone through changes and challenges. We have nearly all dealt with parents and children who aren’t what we thought or wanted them to be. Our grandchildren live in a world that we, being older, are little equipped to guide them. Though we want desperately to save them from the mistakes we have made.

How does one end up a renaissance person?! What combination of talents, skills, parenting, personality traits, and social interaction leads to a life of diversity that gives the perception of wide-ranging ability? I don’t know. I realize now, though, that our perceptions of ourselves are not necessarily how others view us. I realize, also, that perceptions of ourselves and others change as time marches on.

I am thankful for the positive contributions I have made to our lives, and rue the negative impacts I have had. I am thankful for how those with whom I have interacted, have impressed me, and for how most perceive me in a positive way. These are good aspirations in life to achieve – at least for me.