“It is a mysterious thing how cheerful people become in the face of disaster. My father whistled as he boarded up the windows, and my mother from time to time would call to him happily out the back door. She obviously was enjoying the unusual pleasure of having him home on a weekday morning. Tomorrow they might be ruined or dead, today they had each other.” ― Katherine Paterson

As I talk with friends, it seems that almost everyone is getting back to normal after Hurricane Beryl “barreled” through here two weeks ago. The blessing of getting old is that time passes quicker. Seems like only yesterday that I was trying to sleep in the heat. Air conditioning has only been in widespread use throughout the U.S. since the 1960’s. 

Finally got my yard put back in order today. Turns out it wasn’t the only one on my street that was out of order. Mine was the only one in the entire subdivision that remained a mess for two weeks! I’m thankful mine is at the end of a dead end street. So thankful for the guys that worked so hard on my yard today!

Met an older couple at an event on Tuesday who told me they lived in Kingwood and wouldn’t get power back until the end of the week. Two weeks after Hurricane Beryl. When feeling sorry for yourself, or complaining – remember, there’s always someone who’s got it worse. Find a way to empathize and encourage. I hope they’re all powered up now.

During the power loss and all my misery, I had a thought. That electricity is going to come back on again. Why am I so easily angered and upset? At this age/stage of life I ought to be able to endure hardship better than this. What about when I lose sight of God’s presence in my life? What about others who are experiencing this hardship at a deeper level? Why don’t I get so worked up about these? Disasters often reveal to us who we really are.

My insurance inspection happened this week. The night the hurricane blew over I was awoken by louder than expected dripping. On my bed. From my ceiling fan. I don’t think I paid for that extra feature. With deductibles the way they are, my house would need to have been blown into the Land of Oz for any payments. The expert on my roof determined the leak was NOT caused by the hurricane. That’s real expertise. BUT, as we were finishing up and being eaten alive by mosquitos, he asked (as an aside) if I had any spoiled food from the refrigerator. We made a list. He said it might be covered. That night I had a check electronically deposited in my bank. I’m going to count my blessings instead of being a grumpy old man.

“The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but the thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.” ― Henry Ward Beecher

Despite the heat and the mosquitos, maybe this is a good time to take a walk through your neighborhood and be friendly. A Harvard study recently reported that people who took a 20-minute walk, five times a week, had 43% less sick days. One leg of my walk takes me past the creek. All sorts of critters and bird calls as the sun is setting. Just don’t meander and get hit by a bike rider wearing ear buds. I’m trying to do a better job of paying attention as I walk, listen and pray. Attention outside and inside.

Predictions for this year are for an above average hurricane season. Hurricane Beryl was the first category 4 recorded in June and the earliest of that intensity ever recorded. Our utility company here in this region is coming under heavy criticism for not being prepared for this storm. Two weeks to get power back to everyone is difficult to understand. Let’s hope all are ready for the next storm.

“Clouds, leaves, soil, and wind all offer themselves as signals of changes in the weather. However, not all the storms of life can be predicted.” ― David Petersen

“A week ago, it all seemed so secure. So settled.” ― Anthony Doerr

I was able to meet with my Sunday School class yesterday and catch up on who’s got power and when. A week later and not everyone is back to normal. It’s Monday,  a week and a day since Hurricane Beryl unexpectedly swerved over Houston, leaning west. The eastern side of hurricanes is what they call the “dirty” side because it brings most of the wind, rain and damage. That means Houston got it anyway. In my neck of the woods there are still homes and businesses without electricity. Mine came back on Thursday evening. I was captured on the parking lot camera at the Kroger in Rosenberg Texas dancing a jig when I got the news.

During that almost week of misery, here are some observations:

• I think you can measure the degree of disaster that people are feeling by counting the number who are at the grocery store not wearing a shirt.
• For years we’ve been talking about disaster shoppers cleaning out the store shelves of all the bread and toilet paper. Last disaster I couldn’t find any macaroni? This time I surveyed the checkout staff and learned that an unusually large number of people were buying digestive medicines, wet wipes and olives??
• As the week with no power crawled on, there was a great need for ice. Late one evening I was at the store (cooling off) and got caught up in the rush to grab a bag. I didn’t know what I was going to do with it, but it just seemed like the thing to grab at that moment.
• I spent a lot of time in my vehicle, charging up the phone, looking for gas and staying cool. Most afternoons I went to the movies. Our theater is on the same power grid as the hospital across the street – so it never lost electricity. The next time I move…
• Everyone needed some help. Most of us didn’t have a way to help, we were all in the same boat. Having people check in on me before, during and after was invaluable – lifesavers! Even if someone doesn’t need what you’re offering, the fact that you thought of them and reached out becomes the big deal they won’t forget. It’s an example as well.
• My friends provided me with a battery pack and fan to get me through the hot nights. At first I didn’t think I’d need it. Boy, was I wrong. Mostly, I think I needed people who demonstrated their concern. We all need that.
• I saw several examples of power cords stretched across streets that divided the have’s from the have not’s. AC is a civilization changing invention like iron, the wheel and penicillin. But it has also driven us all inside and away from people who live just yards away.
• I was wondering where the birds go during storms like this. Then I realized (wished) as I was standing in the back, surveying the damage, I think the mosquitos may have been blown out to sea. Research seems to indicate birds and bug get into the eye of the storm and ride with it. Maybe they’re not out to sea, but in Arkansas?
• The street I live on is a small cul-de-sac of eight houses. Mine is now the only one surrounded by debris. My yard guys are obviously behind schedule. The peer pressure I’m feeling is enormous.
• All my refrigerator/freezer contents had to be pitched. As I pulled items from my freezer I kept saying out loud, “I didn’t know I had that in there!” I don’t need to throw out my ketchup do I?
• The common of experience of preparing for and weathering Hurricane Beryl brought us all together. Checking up on each other and helping was the next stage of bonding that I experienced. As much as I complain about cell phones, they kept us connected during these powerless days. What’s now got us all organized into a mob of sorts is anger about how long it took (and is taking) to get power restored. It’s amazing the force that a common enemy has in pulling and sticking varied groups of strangers together.
• At the same time, I must point out the numerous examples of citizens banding together to be supportive of the work crews here helping us get back on our feet. From providing meals, washing clothes and messages of thanks, the city is thankful to the working men and women trying to bring us back to normal.

“Some people can find peace in the middle of a hurricane; that’s the person I’m striving to be.” ― Stephen F. Campbell

I wrote all of this while sitting in my powerless house. The heat increased each day as the cool house lost it’s internal air. I spent the days running errands in my air conditioned vehicle (looking for gas in Pearland and El Campo), spending the afternoons at the movies and driving around charging up my phone and batteries. The power in a small portion of my subdivision came back on Thursday evening. I slept very well that night.

“One of the most important things you can do on this earth is to let people know they are not alone.” ― Shannon L. Alder

Hurricane Beryl blew through the Houston area late last night (early this morning).

No power today. That means few connections with civilization.

I took a walk through the neighborhood. Mostly leaves, small branches and limbs scattered everywhere in yards and the streets. We have large trees everywhere. Some fences blown over. A few trees and branches torn down. The creek is up.

I have a minor roof leak over my bed!

It’s always something.

Lately I’ve been thinking about people helping other people, or not. What keeps us from doing what we could and should with strangers in need and especially with those we love and care about? Expectations can be a dangerous threat to human relations.

What do we know about how humans react and respond to stress and unfamiliar situations – like a loss of control? Here’s what I think, so far.

1. People don’t help because they don’t know how. This can be especially true for the young and inexperienced. It’s not fair to put everyone on the same playing field when it comes to caring. Experience is the great teacher. Rather than make a mistake, often we feel safer just staying on the bench and hoping someone else will carry the ball down the field. Fear of failure can be a big obstacle for helping. Even helping people we love.
2. People don’t help because their lives are already full and complicated. It’s not that someone isn’t interested or doesn’t care, they are just overwhelmed with their own busy-ness. We all live in a world that is overblown with obligations, unrealistic goals, and a 24-7 work schedule. Add to this the addictive nature of technology. Who has time to even think about and put into action helping solve someone else’s problems – even others who are close?
3. People don’t help because they don’t have the resources. Let’s widen our thinking about what resources can really mean. This isn’t just physical stuff like money or items to donate (or a room someone can stay in overnight). Resources can also mean time, energy and ability. Gee, I’d like to help you pick up all those Lego’s off the floor, but I can’t bend down anymore at my age. A silly example, but think about all the times that someone just can’t help because they believe they’re not capable. All of us have an emotional reservoir that can get depleted. There’s also the know-how it might take to help in certain situations. Older people can access their larger social network for resources, but that’s difficult for young adults.

“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.” ― Charles Dickens

Too often we get mad because people don’t meet our expectations to help out.  Remember that people who need help often struggle like the drowning person. Lifeguards are trained to approach from behind and pull the drowning victim face up – all in an effort to keep from being pulled under themselves by the thrashing panic.

When in need, there’s often no time or room to think about someone else’s situation. We are overwhelmed with the disaster flood that has overtaken us. The best advice is to be “quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry” (James 1:19).

I received a lot of help. Before the storm hit, people were communicating and checking on me to be sure I was prepared. Immediately after, that morning, I had more contacts offering all sorts of encouragement and offers. I didn’t feel left alone here in my hermit cave.

A few posts to follow to give you more than you ever wanted to know about surviving the disaster, despite our power company!

“You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.” ― John Bunyan

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” ― John Lubbock

I’m flipping through my Texas Monthly magazine. As summer approached, there were advertisements galore for all the wonderful getaway spots throughout the state. Places for vacations, most included water. We used to head to the beach, it was so close, BEFORE the Memorial Day crowds hit. I stayed in the very cold AC while my wife sat by the pool to read her one beach read of the year.

Looking at all promotions and beautiful locations, it reminded me of summers when I was growing up. In my teen years, my extended family bought a piece of property on Medina Lake just outside of San Antonio. We could get there in under an hour. The spot was in a secluded cove. It was one giant slide downhill from the top to the water. Of course we could access it from the boat, but needed to also truck in supplies.

Over the years, a very primitive road was scraped down the hill, and a little cabin was built – all homemade. My grandfather was a carpenter who knew how to get the basics all put together. I’m not sure how we ever got up and down that little road with our big vehicles. My grandmother would never ride up/down, preferring to walk and not risk her life. We would all gather at the bottom each time someone drove up the hill, holding hands praying, but also prepared to jerk someone out of the way of gravel flying from spinning tires. I think eventually we had asphalt brought in?

Everyone, mostly the adults, worked hard to carve out that private hideout up at the lake. As I remember, the bathroom being the most essential ingredient. It was a physical location hidden in the woods, but over the years became a collection of memory that we each have saved away like treasure.

We kids spent almost every minute in the water. Our uncle bought the property adjacent, so our cousins were there during the summers. We would bring friends and horsed around in that secret spot all day long. I still can’t believe we never saw a snake?

Of course, as I look at all of these glitzy vacation spots in the magazine, I’m also reminded of what a hillbilly camp we actually had. But that’s now, decades later, as an adult. Back then, as a kid, all that mattered was having a place to be together, jump in the lake, and wallow in the joy.

My grandkids just spent about a week with me. I tried to figure out some memories we could build and share. I always start out with best laid plans but end up with far less patience and stamina than I had hoped. We did get some fun accomplished. I wonder what they will write about in their own blogs?

“The past beats inside me like a second heart.” ― John Banville

The point I’d like to make is about the value of memory. Their value increases with time. Think about your own memories and how you can be a part of building more in the life of those around you. In the end, it’s those memories that last and live on.

I’m packing up another box of books each week to pass on. I can’t fill one up without stopping to remember when, where, how that book came into my life and what I learned. Mostly, these have been theology and church-life books, so far. Anyone looking for some fiction? I’m disposing of most of my house stuff right now, but all the memories are saved like treasures.

A young couple were over for dinner this week and I talked too much (as usual) but pointed throughout the room at all the props, telling my stories of all the people who meant so much to us. Not decorations, just signposts along the way.

Take someone to that place, attend that concert (before the band dies), have a great meal back where something special happened. How about a road trip? Make it simple, sit down with a friend, have a cup of coffee and share some photos off your phone. Maybe what’s even more important, ask questions and dig for some treasures in the life of your friends. Share those memories and help give life the meaning it really, really needs (have you been watching the news?).

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” ― Viktor E. Frankl

Viktor Emil Frankl was an Austrian neurologist, psychologist, philosopher, and Holocaust survivor, who founded logotherapy, a school of psychotherapy that describes a search for a life’s meaning as the central human motivational force.  (Wikipedia)

As you face those to-do constant lists, do you ever have trouble getting motivated?

I had lunch with friends and it seems I’m not the only one with this obstacle. When summer comes each year, I always start out with a big list of goals that I know I’m going to get done during this season. This year, as I plan to get my house ready to sell, I’ve really got urgent projects on my list. 

This is usual for me each Summer. A big list of projects and lots of anticipated success.  Typically, I don’t get much of it done and in September can never figure out what went wrong. It gets so “tropical” hot down here – maybe that’s the problem. Those annual to-do lists just melt away in the heat. 

“A happy person is not a person in a certain set of circumstances, but rather a person with a certain set of attitudes.” ― Hugh Downs

Actually this happens to me and to most people, not because there’s something broken with our brains or due to a lack of will power. People here in the West tend to have what’s called an Optimistic Bias in their thinking.  This is an error in our thought processing that causes us to become overconfident about how things will turn out. This can apply to life in general or our own specific activities. 

What this often leads to is what’s called a Planning Fallacy. As we begin a project, like putting together a summer list of things to do, we get too optimistic about the time it will actually take to complete a project. We get behind or never start because the list overwhelms us. Do you see the roots in that Optimistic Bias?

I’ve known about this for a long time. But this year, I’m being more deliberate in may awareness of my implicit biases. So, what I’m doing this summer is dividing and conquering. Doing just one thing from my list each day. Eating that elephant, one bite at a time. I’m two months in and so far, so good. 

Next time you’ve got a big list – why not break it down instead of letting your optimism foul your plans. 

“Chew off a little every day, because it’s hard to swallow a whole pie at once.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich

June 6, 2024

All day I have been watching reports about the the 80th Anniversary of the D-Day Allied invasion on the beaches of Normandy France.   This may be the last big celebration that many of the returning veterans attend. Their ages range from 90’s to 100’s. So many were being pushed to the celebration in wheel chairs.

People always ask, how did 150,000 fighters volunteer, get prepared and then hurl themselves into the jaws of death like they did that day? After asking how did that happen, there’s always the follow up question, could it ever happen again? Could we ever assemble a force like that if a similar crisis faced civilization again?

As a social scientist, I want to know, what kinds of external forces push and pull individuals to do what must be done – even at the risk of their lives. Have you seen Saving Private Ryan? That scene when they landed on Omaha beach was gut wrenching for me to watch. Americans are trained to be so individualistic that it’s difficult to think about external forces influencing us. Have you ever had a lump in your throat when at the stadium and the National Anthem begins?

Emile Durkheim was the first to have the academic job title, Sociologist. He was French and lived from 1858-1917. One of his major contributions to social thinking was his idea of “social facts.” There are things out there that we as a society create that turn around and influence us as individual members of that same society. Patriotism for example.

Remember the one child policy that the People’s Republic of China instituted between 1979 and 2015? Their society was too large (citizens producing too many children). This “social fact” was used by the government to mandate laws regulating how many children couples could have.

Crime rates are also infamous social facts. These are created by people committing crimes (or getting caught). We then create Three-Strikes Laws that punish repeat offenders by mandating jail sentences. This is another social fact, increased prison populations, led Governor Kevin Stitt of Oklahoma to authorize a mass commutation of prisoners. Huge prison populations were bankrupting the state.

Anyway, Durkheim wrote about suicide. He challenged the notion that these tragedies were ALWAYS explained psychologically. That each case had it’s own individual cause. This French professor used newly available social data to demonstrate that there were social facts that could also explain suicides.

He came up with four categories of suicide caused by integration or regulation (too much and not enough):

1. Sometimes people commit suicide people because they never get connected enough and, more importantly, the social world doesn’t get connected into them. People who are all alone. Durkheim thought that unmarried males were especially susceptible to this type of problem.
2. At the other end, he believed that people could get too connected to the needs of their social group. Even their own self-preservation and safety might be sublimated to the needs of the group. This is the soldier who throws himself on the grenade to save the rest of his unit. During WW2 the west was shocked by the number of Japanese Kamikaze pilots prepared to die for their Emperor.
3. There are periods of time when the rules seem to change overnight and we don’t know how to play the game of living anymore. Think of the people who lost their fortunes overnight in the 1929 stock market crash. So many successful businessmen threw themselves out of their office windows. It can also happen in the reverse. The norms of life can dramatically change with a lottery win. There are hundreds of examples, someone is suddenly rich and powerful and then live suicidal lifestyles.
4. Finally, Durkheim pointed out that when the rules, or regulation is too overpowering, people sometimes choose suicide. The prisoner or captive that has all freedoms stolen and is left with no hope for any future.

“Things perceived as real become real in their consequences.” ― Émile Durkheim

I don’t think the invading forces during D-Day were committing suicide. Even the 9000 that are buried there at Normandy, each man’s hope was to one day return home to America. No, what I was thinking about all day were Durkheim’s idea about social facts. These bore down on all those young men and women. These external forces propelled the Allied Forces, each fighter, onto those salty beaches, flying through the air, off shore in great and small ships, and even floating down on parachutes. These brave and frightened young people were pushed forward by powerful beliefs they had been taught and internalized about liberty and democracy. About a cause greater than themselves.

Of course, we’re probably mythologizing. That’s what we often do with the past. But, this serves a great purpose for a society. We must have heroes, we must find living examples of our essential beliefs. All societies must have stories to tell that embody their most precious abstract values.

Many of the veterans interviewed this week reported that they had no idea of how devastating and inhumane the circumstances were for the conquered people in Europe and those in concentration camps. We look with hindsight at all the horrors of the war. I’m not sure those young soldiers at the time knew as much of the facts as we do today. Yet they were still willing to risk it all.

What do you think it would take to get you to risk everything on an idea?

“Man cannot become attached to higher aims and submit to a rule if he sees nothing above him to which he belongs. To free him from all social pressure is to abandon him to himself and demoralize him.” ― Émile Durkheim

Did I already tell you about my experiences with birds years ago?

Back in 2017 I did write a bit about this. But that was way before all hell had broken loose.

“His days were full of nights.” ― Harold Hoefle

Years ago I was having one of those mid-life crises. Except I’d had several already, thought I was done with that.  And by the way, I was past mid-life, wasn’t I? A very familiar statement from one of Jesus’ teachings fell on me just when I needed it. Houston native Cynthia Clawson sings a rendition of “His Eye is on the Sparrow” that is just incredible and worth a listen.

In my mind, Jesus is sitting in the market that has been set up in the Temple to sell animals for people to buy for sacrifices. He points to the sparrows. These are the cheapest offerings one can purchase. He draws his followers attention to these least important creatures.

Look at the birds in the sky. They do not store food for winter. They don’t plant gardens. They do not sow or reap—and yet, they are always fed because your heavenly Father feeds them. And you are even more precious to Him than a beautiful bird. If He looks after them, of course He will look after you. (Matthew 6:26)

What fell on me at that hard time in my life was that statement, “consider the birds…” Over the next eighteen months or so, birds started showing up right in front of me. They would greet me at the front door, be in my house, looking in the window, and even singing very loud outside my bedroom to wake me up. It wasn’t so much the birds themselves, but the reminder they carried with them, “…of course he will look after you.”

When I had my first bird encounter the only real troubles I was facing was figuring out my place at work. I’ve got a terrible messiah complex, always thinking I’m on a big mission. One day at work my mission came crashing down and the realization that I was just spending my days at a job set in. That was when these encounters started. Don’t worry about your misunderstanding about work or how you are treated here, “…of course he will look after you.”

Then one day, the birds went away. Now, tonight, years later, I watched the Carolina Chickadees eating from the seeds I had set out for them in the cool evening breeze. They fly in fast, small and quick little birds. The seeds are too big. They dart up to a nearby branch, hold the seed in their feet and work to peel the husk off the seed.

I’m only putting out safflower seeds because the squirrels won’t eat them. The squirrels and I have our own pitched battle taking place. We are now at a standoff.

In the early Spring I will see pairs of cardinals when they’re courting, the male will offer a seed to his date. They don’t do it after they’ve gotten engaged. It’s purely a mating behavior. Typically, the red birds have a beautiful song. While this courting is taking place, I’ve watched other males looking on from a distance with that dejected sound in in their song. Maybe I’m reading too much into this?

The only other birds that eat these seeds are big fat doves. They plop down in the middle of the dish and fill up. Before the sun sets, in the quiet of the day my back garden is a place of escape. These early evenings are few in Houston. We run outside and enjoy them. Before the mosquitos invade.

“When the times are a crucible, when the air is full of crisis, those who are the most themselves are the victims.” ― Gregory Maguire

So much was to come into my life in the days since those first encounters with the birds.

That period of time when I saw those birds so near, it helped me get ready for what was to come. It helped me to know for sure that God would love and care for us just as he does for the insignificant birds.

Cancer soon arrived. My wife fought like a hero in a fairy tale for several years. She lived one day at a time and was able to welcome her first grandchild. Then we suffered through hospice for that summer. A birdfeeder was hung at the window. We were all reminded every day of God’s presence, by the birds but mostly by the people who loved us. She died five years ago. I was numb inside and out. But planted deep inside me was, “…of course he will look after you.”

“Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.” ― Edna St. Vincent Millay

Soon after that disaster, my children kidnapped my grandkids and moved away, leaving me here really alone. There was no appropriate paperwork filled out, no committee consulted, no vote taken. They just up and left. As I watch my grandchildren grow up over Zoom calls and dwindling in-person visits, I mourn their loss each day. It’s like a slow starvation. I have to work hard to make sure I’m hanging on to the right life raft and when I hear a bird sing, know that,  “…of course he will look after you.”

After almost thirty years as a professor at the university, I was fired one day. No longer of any use. It took just two minutes over the phone by a stranger reading a script from a card. Feels like the third leg of my stool has been knocked out. How many legs have I got left before teetering over? This blow has many layers of catastrophe that keep pouring over me. But, when I sit in the back or look at all the bird images in my house, it’s right there, “…of course he will look after you.”

I’m now trying to figure out a mysterious future. Friends are asking, what will you do now? Some get a baffled look on their face when I tell them, I’m just waiting on what God has planned, “…of course he will look after you.”

I’m planning to sell my house, jam packed with memories. Slowly but surely I’m passing on my two libraries (work and home). Right now I’m trying to lose as much as I can. Including fourteen birdhouses that we collected and were given to us since 2017. All of this is loss as well. Leaving behind and passing on. Most of my identity and most of my possessions. My place, literal and figurative, in the world – all going away. I don’t feel any fear, anger or anxiety. There’s just a lot all at once. Those birds seemed to have gotten me ready for these mysterious twists and turns in the river, “…of course he will look after you.”

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.” ― William Shakespeare

Back in 2017 when I wrote on here about my bird story, I had no idea all that was around the corners. I don’t believe that God is ever caught by surprise. Those birds and their memory reminded me that God is going to continue to care for me – one way or the other. I was having an angry fit the other evening. I passed by the window and there was a big blue jay peering in at me. I had to stop and get ahold of myself. This situation was better out of my turmoil filled spirit and in God’s hands, “…of course he will look after you.”

People fumble the ball all the time, myself included. In my experience, God hasn’t ever done that to me. He’s faithfully been with me, looking after me, each and every step I take.

“But the time is coming—indeed it’s here now—when you will be scattered, each one going his own way, leaving me alone. Yet I am not alone because the Father is with me.  I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”  – Jesus (John 16:32-33)

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.” ― Washington Irving

As time went by, my wife decided that the gift she enjoyed more than any other was a giant bouquet of flowers. What settled her on this were the bunches of flowers I was able to pile together from our upscale grocery store. They have an over-the-top assortment to choose from that can’t be beat. Completely different from what you find at the typical “grocery store” – those apology flowers that people grab on their way home from work, late.

My wife decided that she’d rather have flowers for her birthday, anniversary, Mother’s Day, and any other special occasion I could imagine. Including the apologies I was always behind in delivering.

I was just at the grocery store (again) and saw all the various “types” grabbing their gifts and flowers for Mother’s Day. I could sit in there for hours just watching and sorting everyone into their category. There were dads pushing carts with young children all on a mission to find something just right. I saw a young man, probably still in high school, with two bunches of flowers – each had chocolate bars sprouting up into the air. Older couples were putting together their contributions for the meal with a mother-in-law. That young husband, maybe he’s also a new dad, was concentrating so hard over each choice in the floral department. As if this year’s choice was the one and only.

“I love you every day. And now I will miss you every day.” ― Mitch Albom

Maybe you ought to think about celebrating the mom’s in your life more often. How about a big bouquet to commemorate the day YOU were born? What about celebrating anniversaries? Potty training day? Your driving license? First date? Those surely meant something big to your mom. What about your wife? How about a big bouquet for each of your children’s birthdays? Your first date with her?

The point is, find as many excuses as you can to celebrate motherhood – all through the year. What about breakfast in bed each Saturday? Take the kids on a fieldtrip and give her a break. YOU arrange for the babysitter and plan a date. Why not just cleaning up in the bathroom after yourself – every time? I just had a niece graduate from college – it went so fast. My grandchildren in preschool seems eternal, but I will blink and sooner than later watch each graduate. Don’t wait to remember.

“The timeless in you is aware of life’s timelessness. And knows that yesterday is but today’s memory and tomorrow is today’s dream.” ― Khalil Gibran

Buying a giant bouquet can seem like an extravagance. The flowers don’t last. Gone in a week if you’re lucky. But their memory is still here with me. And I wasn’t even the one to receive them. Those moments of happiness, that were here one day and gone soon after, were worth every penny, worth the time driving across town, worth wrangling with the florist, worth hoping I’d made the right choices and had enough to fill up a giant vase at home (I’m a cheapskate at heart).

It was especially heartwarming tonight to watch those children, as their faces lit up when they had chosen the right bunch of roses or mixed arrangement. You could see their anticipation of watching mom’s happiness. Worth every penny. Worth every inch of trouble it takes, once we get older and busy with what never really matters. As often as you can remember.

“But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget.” ― Tim O’Brien

“The true atheist is the one who refuses to see God’s image in the face of their neighbour.” ― Shane Claiborne

As I’m getting my little house ready to sell, my neighbors are becoming even more noticeable to me. I’ve been here in this small cul-de-sac for over 25 years. There are eight of us living on this little street. Four of us have been here from the start, original owners. The other half of the houses are now a combination of newcomers and a rental or two.

My social science training has prepared me as a people watcher. But I confess I often feel like Mrs. Kravitz from the Bewitched television series. Preparing to pack up and move has turned me reflective.  Over the decades, we have become a very interesting mix in our little community. There are residents from all over the world. People from all age groups. Some are leaving for work each day, others working from home, some retired. I think all of the major religions are represented. A wonderful sample and slice of Houston.

A Priceless Few Moments

There’s a young dad across the street who spends time each day sitting in his little car parked on the curb. Sometimes he’s watching his children playing in the street, usually smoking. I’ve seen him on a phone a few times. He and his large family, I think I’ve counted five children, live in one of the two-story houses. Despite the extra space, he seems to need an escape each day.

When this family moved in – our neighborhood got very loud. When you’re in a family with numerous brothers and sisters, you need to raise your voice to be heard. So everyone hollers. Those of us who raised our families on this street now have grandchildren. It’s been a long time since we had the familiar sound of childhood bouncing all around. Every now and then our grandchildren visit and there it is again.

I think this young father has found a wise way to manage his very filled up life (there’s even a grandpa living with them). Dad retreats for a quiet time in his little car, his own private space, maybe taking a deep breathe or two. Great advice for the rest of us in the neighborhood.

“In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion.”  – Albert Camus

Time Out Can Work Wonders

Recently, in another house, I see that they’ve stuck their grandmother out in the garage all day. She used to drive her own vehicle. It’s gone now. There are a lot of people coming and going from this little house. They are renting. Her husband, grandpa, used to bring a dining chair out and sit on the front porch, with the door standing open. It made me wonder who’s paying the AC bill. There’s no traffic to watch, we’re on a cul-de-sac. He’s not there anymore. Maybe he’s passed away?

Now, grandma has taken up a spot in the garage, against a wall, with the big door open. We’ve just had our first 90 degree day. I wonder how long she will last? Have they put her out here because she started smoking? Is she not getting along with her daughter-in-law? Is their cable out?

This reminds me of a Navajo custom. This tribe does not live in a collective community but instead on isolated family ranches. Property is passed down matrilineally. When you get married to your wife, you go to live and help run the ranch owned by her mother. To reduce the chances of potential friction, the Navajo have invented a unique custom. In the mornings, the mother-in-law gets up and retreats to her own “she-shed” out back. Once her son-in-law is up and has had breakfast, he heads out to start work on the far-flung property. Mother comes back in to the house and helps her daughter the rest of the day. Contact between mother and son-in-law is kept to a minimum. The potential for friction is reduced.

“We need solitude, because when we’re alone, we’re free from obligations, we don’t need to put on a show, and we can hear our own thoughts.” ― Tamim Ansary

I don’t know why this grandma is now sitting in her garage. My other neighbor thinks she’s become our crime watch observer. I need to stop waving and wander over for a chat. It does remind me of an important lesson. If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. There are lots of times in my past that I should have gone and had a time out in the garage and didn’t. Who knows why she’s really out there?

Keep On Keeping At It

Early in the mornings I drive past a very aged little woman who is working very hard on the same daily task. She is small and stooped, sweeping away in her front yard. There is a broom in one hand and a long handled dust pan in the other. Each morning she is sweeping up every single leaf and twig that has fallen into her yard. We live in an oak tree lined neighborhood. These are trees that are in constant leaf drop. She has a big job every morning. And she’s good at it. The yard isn’t manicured, filled with pretty flowers or green grass. It looks like every other yard fighting for life under the shade.

“I’ve buried a lot of my laundry in the back yard.” ― Phyllis Diller

Maybe when everyone else in the family has headed off to work and school, this little lady has her daily list of tasks to complete, her contribution to make. She is faithfully hard at it every morning as I drive past. Any teenager given this task would roll their eyes and complain about the futility, “the yard will only be filled again in a few hours!” Finalizing this job is not the purpose. For this lady, the daily activity, not the completion, has it’s own value. Isn’t that the way it always is for the house work? The dishwasher always needs to be filled and the laundry never gets finished for good.

As I make my routine, automatic drive off to work again, the same trip for almost 30 years, I am taught an invaluable lesson when I pass this little woman. All of my frustrations, fears, stumbles and losses get a better perspective when I see her diligently sweeping away, day after day. She gives me courage to keep at it, no matter what’s happening all around me.

“It’s good to be curious about many things.” ― Fred Rogers

And I hope when I get old, I don’t sit around thinking about it
But I probably will. – Bruce Springsteen, Glory Days

All Those Memories Made at the Rock Concert

Since moving to Houston almost 30 years ago, attending rock concerts became an exciting experience to join in with and attend with friends. My own daughter became a big fan over the years, getting pulled into the adventure with dad.

Most are late middle or senior citizens and white. That’s what the classic rock crowd has evolved into. Hard to keep them at the show too late. Not as eager to hang around for the encore. Even most of the geriatric bands are ready to get to bed soon after most of us.

One of the last great shows I went to was John Mellencamp. Had great seats right up at the front. The problem started about 20 minutes into the show when, one by one, everyone with bladder issues had to crawl down the aisle to go to the bathroom. On and on, all night long. Very rabid fans, but the call of nature always louder than any guitar riff.

“I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday.” – Lynyrd Skynyrd

We are all hurrying to each rock concert, hoping to make it before the aging rockers pass away. The classic songs of the 60’s and 70’s were written and performed 50-60 years ago. Also remember, you could still be kickin’ but unable to sing those notes anymore. Another tour might be out of the question. A couple of years ago, I saw one band member have to take a seat between every other song. At another show, the lead singer was sharing with us about all his surgeries and repairs. All night long, it seemed as if he was going to teeter off the front of the stage into our laps.

“You may be right, I may be crazy – but it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for.” – Billy Joel

All Those Unforgettable Characters

The guy who’s not aware that anyone else is there. Hard to imagine with hundreds and hundreds in attendance. He’s found a spot, stands and sits there and never adjusts to the crowd. Sometimes he’s taking pictures or filming. Oblivious to how his Steven Spielberg act is distracting or blocking the view of those nearby. He’s all alone in his moment – all night long.

There’s the lady in her early 60’s, dressed like a 20-year-old, gyrating away like she just got a new hip. She has a new dance move choreographed for each song. This is a special night for her – so much joy expressed unapologetically. I keep thinking, is that someone’s grandmother? What fun they must have at Thanksgiving.

RUSH concerts were always interesting because the audience was predominantly males. You had to look hard to find the other sex. I liked spotting all the dads and uncles who had brought the next generation of kids with them. Again, mostly males but every now and then a daughter. I introduced my own daughter to RUSH at a concert back when she was in high school. They are always exceptionally loud and everyone sings along. I think she had a good night.

Every now and then I end up a row in front or behind a pair of very happy female friends. Many times they will carry on a running conversation – through most of the concert, over each song. Raising their voices when necessary. All of us nearby leave the show knowing all the details about the cat’s upper respiratory tract infection or the guy at work that can’t get the hint he’s not her type.  I always wonder why they’ve paid so much for tickets and talked through the whole night?

Thunder only happens when it’s raining… Stevie Nicks

At one show, my friend and I spent the first half watching a young lady trying to talk the security guards (at each side of the stage) into letting her back to see the band. As I understand her urgency, she had to get to them because she had knitted tops for each member of the group. She was looking for the opening act band and didn’t seem to realize they had left the building an hour into her protestations. She was relentless and entertaining. A real groupie.

How about the true-blue fan who knows the words to every song and bellows them out for everyone in a 30-yard radius to hear. There’s a little voice inside asking yourself, you paid how much to hear this guy screech;

Jeremiah was a bullfrog.
Was a good friend of mine.
I never understood a single word he said,
but I helped him a drink his wine.

A friend and I go to the same band each year when it comes to town. We love them and it’s a way for us to nail down a big memory. It’s the best medicine. They sing the same songs but have such an over-the-top performance, we are eager to be a part of the show again and again.

Many times, I’ve taken groups of teens and introduced them to the classic sounds and lyrics. We still talk about those summer nights outside with the old hippies. Hearing familiar feelings that we could all understand. It also helped to share a part of our own youth with the next generation – to let them in on the secret.

“Don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.” – The Eagles

Rock Concerts Help Keep Us Connected

These rock concerts I attend are joyous events for everyone. We are singing and swaying to the beat. All members of the same tribe. Sharing a common experience. There’s a recent survey that reported 40% of adults in their sample hadn’t had an in-person conversation in three days. We all feel like we are becoming a more isolated society. This tends to reinforce that belief.

When I go to a loud, familiar, and emotional concert, it helps to anchor my life back where it belongs. We were meant to live in the hustle and bustle of life, shoulder to shoulder with others. Sharing our lives with people is how we keep being human. Just get over it and ask that guy next to you, Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?

“If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now – it’s just a spring clean for the May Queen.” – Led Zeppelin