“Blessed are they who hold lively conversations with the helplessly mute, for they shall be called dentists.” ― Ann Landers

My seven-year-old grandson had a visit to the dentist today. His mother reported he did great! She had braces when she was young. He’s getting some sort of expander to help with alignment. When I was growing up, I think they had just invented toothpaste.

I’m having a bridge installed. I’ve made several dental visits. All squeezed in before I move. Searching for a new dentist was one more hassle I didn’t want to tackle in my new location. Four different dentists have been involved in the project. This has got me thinking and doing some field work on the whole dental experience. Here goes:

The number of female dentists is rapidly increasing over the last decade. Up to almost 40% now. Glad to see 42% here in Texas, but only 8% in Utah. What’s the deal with those Mormons? My regular dentist is female. In fact, without planning it, all of my healthcare providers are female. It’s been a great experience for me. I wonder what my next life will be like as I lose my health insurance and then await Medicare. I’ll be in a big city filled up with great professionals. I hope falling apart doesn’t happen too quickly.

“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” ― Marcel Proust

My dentist is very gregarious. She does a lot of face-to-face interaction, laughs at all my corny jokes and has an infectious good mood. Dentists come in a wide range of personalities, just like everyone else. Over the years, some of mine have seemed shy, others scripted, a few personable and only one had bad breath.

There is no reliable scientific evidence that dentists are more prone to suicide than people in other occupations. We call this belief an urban legend. But imagine how you would feel going to work each day and facing patients who were terrified to be there and waited until things had gotten catastrophic before making an appointment (my wife). What would it be like if you had to do all the talking? Instead of a happy exit, your patient is stumbling out with numb lips and wobbly from their stiffened recline.

“Eyes are the windows to the soul. A smile is the mirror of the heart” ― Janna Cachola

My dentist runs her practice as a solo operation right now. Many have a technician/assistant that does much of the personal interaction with patients. Some of these dentists I have visited will sneak in from behind like an East German spy from the Cold War. I hear a soothing voice in my ear and know it’s time to open wide. I even had one dentist with a secret entry to the exam room. I could hear him coming in and out each time the door squeaked open. He’d hurry back to the safety of his office and regroup right after that injection. Many would dart back to their office to fill out a report or scan their schedule while waiting for the next step. Dentists don’t make “rounds” like physicians at the hospital.

There was another very, very outgoing dentist I met who reminded me of a salesman on TV. He had mastered the extravert personality type. I think he was the perfect match for his brand-new multi-doctor practice that he was managing. What a combination, great dentist and expert supervisor. That place was like visiting a busy Swedish airport. Seemed like hundreds of staff all running at top efficiency. An almost overwhelming experience. I’m glad I wasn’t in any pain and could notice all the details.

The front end of the dentist’s office is also a place of interest. Most people are probably afraid, in pain or distracted with their phones to pay enough attention. In my experience, the wise dentists have put someone with disarming personalities in the front. A person who is especially people oriented who can create a calming environment, schedule appointments when needed and tell you the bad news about your insurance (with a smile). I still don’t like it when they’re hiding behind a little glass window. Seems too sanitized and impersonal.

Out here in the suburbs, booking an appointment is getting difficult. We do have a dentist shortage in America right now. Texas is one of the ten states where the lack of dentists is the most severe. Since so many wait until it really hurts to call, that may be a terrible strategy if you’re in one of these ten states.

As time has moved on, as it always does, my experiences at the dentist has changed. It’s difficult to find a “generalist” who can do just about everything. When we moved to Houston in the late 90’s I found a few who could solve all my problems (almost). Our aging population, advances in technology and especially insurance have all worked to change our healthcare experiences. In good ways and maybe some that can be troublesome. Now, I have to go to a different specialist for this problem and that. Getting an appointment can take a month out here where I live. Aways some bad with the good, right?

“Progress always involves risk; you can’t steal second base and keep your foot on first.” ― F.W. Dupee

Does anyone remember the old-fashioned barber shop? Very difficult to find today. That striped pole outside the door is a holdover from the wild west days. Back then, the barber was also the dentist. He wasn’t specialized at all. If you had a problem, he just pulled it out. I wonder what those pliers were like? When you rode into town and you needed a dentist, because it was probably a painful emergency, you looked for the post outside the shop where the old bandages had been washed and hung to dry. They didn’t have any Dawn detergent back then. Probably easy to spot the post with the red stained rags wrapped around it.

As I’ve visited dentist after dentist these past few months, it’s obvious, we’ve come a long way. I didn’t see one pair of pliers. No matter where I was, everyone used their skills to solve my problems in the best way possible. Despite any momentary frustrations, being thankful for all the taken-for-granted is an important practice I keep working on.

I guess the moral of the story is to pay better attention. The professionals you interact with are people just like you. Get off the script and ask how their day is going. Sitting in those waiting rooms filled up with hurting and fearful folks, how about a smile to ease some of the burdens? Thinking about others is always the best medicine to ease your own pains and problems. It works every time. Give it a try.

“When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.”  ― G.K. Chesterton

A blog post about coffee?

I’m between places to live, ready to transition between cities with different climates, trading hurricanes for tornadoes, out of a job and almost into a very different one. So, why wouldn’t I be pondering coffee as it rains all week?

“There were some problems only coffee and ice cream could fix.” ― Amal El-Mohtar

I didn’t grow up in a coffee drinking culture.  Actually, Starbucks took off in our country in the 2000’s. Our national coffee culture is a relatively recent trend. Now, everyone is walking around with a coffee. It’s difficult to even go to church without walking past a coffee stand in the lobby! As of 2024, daily coffee consumption in America has increased by almost 40%. Coffee consumption is now at its highest level in more than 20 years.

My grandparents had coffee each morning. When her sister or friend would come for a mid-morning visit, my grandmother would have a fresh pot brewed and they would sit at her kitchen table talking and laughing. I still remember the sounds. Coffee was brewed in pots. No dripping in Mr. Coffee’s or Keurig’s. But at home, no one was drinking coffee. In fact, mornings were sort of an “every man for himself” experience.

In college, my soon-to-be wife was a coffee drinker. Forty years ago, there were no cool coffee shops around campus. You had to make it yourself in your dingy apartment. I don’t even think they had invented coffee cups for on the go?? She was raised in a big-time coffee culture at home. Once we got married, that Mr. Coffee was dripping away. We went through those machines like AC filters. Coffee was black and in a big mug. Sometimes I’d share a cup in the morning, but always heavily augmented. What you might call a “milky coffee” – and the edge taken off with some sweetener. What a wimp!

“Black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, sweet as love.” ― Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord

My mother-in-law was an epic coffee drinker

I don’t remember ever seeing her drink anything but hot, black coffee. She drank it all day and all night. Who knows how this habit developed. Maybe the water was undrinkable in Oklahoma?

We’d be at a restaurant, and she’d order coffee. I got in the habit of grabbing the waiter by the sleeve before he/she rushed off and explaining the need to get a fresh pot brewing and to bring it on each visit to the table – she was going to go through it like water and wanted it constantly heated up. Who wouldn’t? It was always fun when we were all together at the house to see the race for who would make the next pot – mom and each of her three daughters brewed it at a different intensity. But that coffee maker was always sputtering away.

For some reason my kids decided to go off their Keurig machine and brew a whole pot each morning before zooming off to work. Maybe they were each filling large travel mugs on their way out the door. Anyway, I inherited their Keurig. That was the start of my solitary coffee drinking here at home.

I have frequented our neighborhood Starbucks for years

Grabbing something quick on the way to work or an errand a couple times a week. I’m the only one who thought my regular order amusing, a “short blond” and when I was feeling under the weather a “tall Early Grey.” After the COVID lockdown, the Keurig had arrived, my schedule changed and online ordering made quick trips hard to predict. I’d look through the glass and see an empty store with no line and think I could just whip in and whip out. How was I to know there were 400 online orders ahead of me?

“It is inhumane, in my opinion, to force people who have a genuine medical need for coffee to wait in line behind people who apparently view it as some kind of recreational activity.” ― Dave Barry

These days I think about the coffee drinking in my family as I shop for more k-cups at the store. How can I be out this quickly? Who’s drinking all this coffee? While I’m not anywhere near the level of my mother-in-law, I’m very much drinking more cups than ever before. I’m even stocking decaf for evening consumption. Sounds like I’ve moved to a new level. A habit has formed.

When you shop for coffee today

…you find varieties advertised from all over the world. Even from the intestinal tract of an Asian cat! Coffee originated from Africa and made its way to the rest of the world through trade with the Arab world. One route took coffee drinking through Egypt, North Africa and then Spain. Another carried the custom up to what is now Turkey and on into Europe. Apparently, Ethiopian monks started drinking it to stay awake during their all-night meditations.

“Do you know how helpless you feel if you have a full cup of coffee in your hand and you start to sneeze? ” ― Jean Kerr

My wife drank it big, learning it from her mom. Having a Starbucks around the corner was just what she needed. It even worked during chemo when she couldn’t stand coffee and instead went for one of their “refreshers.” We should have bought stock in that company. Despite 35 years of her intense coffee drinking, I never really picked up the habit. The inheritance of their Keurig when the kids moved five years ago was probably the instigator. Made the habit easy to start. I think I’m on my third machine now. I wonder if maybe I’m drinking 3-4 cups of coffee a day to keep the spirit of my wife vibrant in the house.

It’s afternoon, the rain has stopped for now and I have a mug sitting here with me as I type. It’s almost the next best thing.

“No one is ever really lost as long as their story still exists.” ― R. M. Romero

“He was trying to find his footing in a world both familiar and foreign” ― H.W. Brands

Now living in a house that’s been “staged” – all prepared to sell. Wonderful team of experts from my church got me all set up. I feel like I’m living in a luxury hotel now. I was reminded today that I must make my bed each morning. Who knows what potential buyer will walk through the door on any given day. I’ve lived here for almost 30 years. We were one of the first in our little cul-de-sac. The unanticipated consequences of now living in staged house is that it feels less like that comfortable home with dishes in the sink. Wonder what will be the most difficult about leaving this house? Probably a little easier now that it’s more like a hotel. What a brilliant strategy.

“There is a wilderness we walk alone
However well-companioned”
― Stephen Vincent Benét

Spent the afternoon at the MFAH with my friend. Always come away inspired and refreshed. The spirit of creativity is everywhere. I think I could spend a whole day just sitting on a bench in a gallery there, staring at paintings. I really found a blessing with my museum partner. There are very few (none) in my life who would enjoy these trips like we do. Time is new for me now. There’s a different rhythm to learn to dance to. I haven’t gotten the tune right yet. How will my days be organized in the years to come? Solitary trips to the museum will be hard. Seems like museums hire a lot of staff to stand around in the corners. A new career option? I wonder if I could stay on my feet that long?

I’m looking out the window at the birds eating from the dish of seeds I’ve set out. They draw my attention away from all the details in my laptop right now. A lot of loose ends that need to be tied. The male red bird picks up a seed and offers it to his potential date for the evening. It’s a mating ritual, like opening a car door or picking out the right flowers. The sun is setting, not much time to find another bird to share your nest. Tonight’s bright red bird has four females gathered around him. He’s offering a seed to each. Who will accept and invite me to her nest, he wonders? Even the birds have important life choices to make.

“The simplest toy, one which even the youngest child can operate, is called a grandparent.” ― Sam Levenson

I think I’ve found a new nest for my days ahead. No need to bribe with a seed. It’s up north where they have all four seasons of the year. Right down the road from my family. That makes it a step closer to paradise. I was just up there searching and being with my grandchildren. We read stories, played games, built a Lego model, got up at 6am, looked at condos, ate tacos and BBQ ribs. Anyone have suggestions for a good senior adult multivitamin? I don’t think my generic brand is working. I’m going to need to pack a bucket or two of stamina.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” ― Joseph Campbell

I need to go now and get busy organizing tomorrow’s donation pick up. It’s a great service that has hauled away so much from my shrinking household. Mostly the 2000 books that made up my libraries – no more space since I got kicked out of the university. My house stagers had me get rid of most of the bookshelves in the house – makes the little cottage seem so much bigger. Today I’m going through all the top shelves in the house. Filled with things no one has laid eyes on in decades. Items I will never need in my next chapter. So many dishes, glasses, and vases! How did all this stuff ever get here? What memories are essential to pack away and save?

My future is right around the corner. Those birds outside my window remind me of many things. One day soon I will roll out of bed, and it will be tomorrow.

 

Today was my first day of the next chapter of life. That sounds weird. I’m a senior citizen. That sounds even more weird! It’s my first day as an ex-professor after almost 30 years (a bunch of us at work got fired). So, I made a list of what I started to do on this first day of my next life…turning the page to the next chapter.

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.”
― T.S. Eliot

1. I’m trying real hard to stop being mad. Mostly I’m just heartbroken. Staying very busy is the best medicine.
2. I made bacon this morning in a new way. Turned out very well. Maybe another new beginning for my breakfasts??
3. Went to the store for coffee and pickles. What a strange combination?
4. Finally got the rest of those flowers planted. I want to make my realtor friend happy with my progress in the front. I tend to lean toward a more rustic look…
5. Spent some time finishing up my Sunday School lesson hand-out. I wonder how many of these I have left? It’s been 25 years. (In addition to getting fired, I’m planning to sell my house, move away and try to be a full-time grandfather. Leaving behind my home, my church, my friends – heading into the frontier!)
6. Later, I tried to take a nap. I’m always encouraging students to get more sleep. It’s the easiest way to study and remember. Maybe now I can start to rest.
7. I packed up more possessions to give away: old toys, books, pillows, dishes, books, glassware, office supplies, books, clothes, pots/pans, books, tools, jewelry, books, decor, books and more books. All those books really are the stories of my life. Strangers come over in the evenings and weekends and takeaway furniture that I won’t need in my next chapter. The house is getting empty.
8. Staring out the window. They will all get cleaned next week. I’m now looking for a carpet cleaner. Those flower beds out there took up 25 years of my life. Season after season. Freeze after freeze. My wife planted that tree when I was home one summer from a surgery. Look how big it is now.
9. Eating leftovers for lunch. Friends from work took me out to dinner this week.
10. I saw a red finch in the back. I’ve never seen one of those before. Me and these birds… I put out safflower seeds, squirrels don’t like them.
11. Why is everything on Netflix dubbed?
12. I went through a bunch of boxes from my office desk. The last load out. I sorted and tried to combine with what I had here. What memories do I want to save? Why are there so many paperclips and post-it notes?? How did I get all that stuff out of there? One box at a time, week after week…

Tomorrow is another day. Sometimes, late at night, when I’m reading, I flip ahead to see how many pages are left in a chapter. How many pages until the stopping place. Until I can close the book and go to sleep. I wonder how many pages are in this next chapter for me?

“From the end spring new beginnings.” ― Pliny the Elder

“The secret to getting ahead is getting started.” ― Mark Twain

• Over half of recent college graduates report that they would not work at a place that did not offer a work-life balance.
• 64% believe that 5-day work weeks are outdated
• 67% think that 9-5 working hours are a thing of the past
• 59% report that having to relocate for a job is an antiquated practice
• Recent college graduates have higher rates of underemployment (working in jobs that don’t require college degree) when compared with all college graduates

This is the end of the semester. Arrives just like Christmas every year. There is a buzz of anticipation for those preparing to graduate and launch into the next chapter. Some into the mysterious job market. Others planning more learning with graduate school. There are also first year students with that look of relief – they’ve made it off “survivor island” and most have figured it out. The big lesson was figuring themselve out. Sometimes it takes several years to learn that lesson. It did for me. What about you?

It’s my impression that college graduates today are starting life with several critical obstacles:

• They have difficulty reading for understanding
• Social skills with groups are especially challenging
• Writing in ways that express critical thinking is even more unpracticed – an AI can do it for you…

Last week I performed a wedding for a recent graduate. He’s now a police officer here in Houston. His new wife is a nurse. Talk about starting life with stressful occupations. You’d never know it as they were beaming the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen that evening. All the mess and stress just disappeared as they started their happiness. I always encourage their family and friends sitting back watching to jump in and not leave the new couple hanging. Help them succeed and but know when to get out of the way as they launch their new lives.

I’m always trying to coach college students with advice, small and big about their futures – even when to show up for the final. I didn’t get any when I was their age and really made a mess so often. When I graduated from college I also got married. Life changed dramatically all at once. I was like a zombie that someone (my wife) was pointing in the right direction. That’s what makes me feel an obligation to do something for young people these days. I sure could have used some wise words from further down the road.

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” ― Umberto Eco

Sometimes parents don’t want to give advice to young couples. That’s not smart. You just need to learn how to do it the right way – your spouse can help you manage your delivery. I always require new couples to go through counseling before they get married. Their forever future is worth the work and effort. Don’t you think starting out your marriage and/or career with a supportive network can be crucial to survival? My advice is always to get connected with a group in your local church. There are so many ways others can help save your life when the boat starts to sink.

“Be willing to be a beginner every single morning.” ― Meister Eckhart

If you could go back in time and give advice to that younger you, what would it be? Would you even listen when you were that age? Some lessons need to be experienced – you can’t hear about it from others. There are hardships in life that could and should be avoided if we just knew better. Seems like people just starting out should learn about:

• Managing your money
• Marriage/relationship mistakes
• Making good/bad impressions when it matters
• The right/wrong people in your life matter

What would you add to the list? Now that you’ve launched in so many ways, what has experience taught you? What can you pass on to someone else in your circle?

 

“You don’t have to say everything to be a light. Sometimes a fire built on a hill will bring interested people to your campfire.” ― Shannon L. Alder

It was a cool evening tonight. Rare in Houston. The sun was sneaking under the distant covers and leaving a beautiful trail of orange and pink. I had jumped up, put on a hat and grabbed my walking stick. Don’t miss a perfect time to move, count some steps, clear the cobwebs, say some prayers – there are so many to be spoken these days.

Just over the levee across the street, I saw them approaching a house. It seemed like no one was home. My walk had just started, but as I got nearer, I began to hope I’d get to have a conversation with these neighborhood visitors. Just like that, before I could think about a plan, the leader of the trio spotted me (it was dusk) and marched right over and started the “pitch.”

Before he could really get going I hollered out to them “how’s the mission going tonight?” They were a little taken aback. I told them, in those classic Mormon “uniforms” anyone could spot them a mile away. I introduced myself as someone who studies religion – like theirs – professionally as a sociologist. That’s my specialty. I also worked in my Southern Baptist background with a little history. Remember, even Mormon missionaries aren’t immune from my talking too much these days.

They weren’t riding bikes, it’s now too dangerous, I was told. Houston has become so diverse; these young high school graduates were learning Mandarin. Back at their church (here in Sugar Land) English language classes were being offered to new immigrants. They seemed just as enthusiastic as any young Mormons I’ve met over the past 40 years.

I think we mostly talked about BYU and the Big 12, their own college plans after the two-year mission is complete, and the overtime Baylor loss to BYU up in Provo in 2022. I was invited to church with them – hard to do when I’m teaching a class at my own church. I told them that in the past I had missionaries come to my church and visa versa. I shared that I was moving soon, they offered to help, giving me a card with a phone number (written in Chinese).

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints would prefer that you call their members “saints” but have recently stopped resisting the norm that Christian society has developed over the past two hundred years – calling them “Mormons.” Do you remember, we came close in 2012 to having our first Mormon president?

Have you noticed that the Jehovah’s Witnesses have stopped knocking on doors Saturday mornings? Instead, a new strategy is to send handwritten letters in the mail. For me, it’s very interesting to talk to people who knock on my door about their religious indoctrination and to observe their tactics. I told the missionaries tonight that almost everyone, even those in religiously free America, don’t pick their own faith but generally share the same beliefs in which they’ve been raised.

“Religious liberty might be supposed to mean that everybody is free to discuss religion. In practice it means that hardly anybody is allowed to mention it.” ― G.K. Chesterton

Anyway, these young men probably didn’t get the training to deal with a character like me tonight. A little old man in his shorts out for a walk. Someone who probably knew more about their religion than they did. Someone who talked too much. Someone not in a hurry to get away. Someone who was not defensive at all, eager to listen and curious about their own individual futures. Someone who promised to pray for them as he departed – who probably should have stopped them right there on that driveway and prayed for all of us.

“Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.” ― Victor Hugo

All of us have had or will have these kinds of experiences

The past few months have been focused on packing up and getting rid of possessions that I don’t think I need anymore.  It sounds a little gruesome, but I got a book entitled, “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning.” I was attracted to it because it seemed to promise strategies to help rid me of a lifetime of clutter. So much that no one in my tiny family is interested in inheriting. I’m feeling very  liberated as I turn loose of more and more.

A very large part of this packing up as been centered on my two libraries. I have one at work and another at home. I though getting rid of almost 150 banker’s boxes of books would be easy. What was I thinking? Where did all these books come from? I think to myself as I stand there reading through a forgotten find. No wonder this is taking so long.

From my office at school, which needs to be vacated in May, I have hauled almost 100 of those boxes back home. Each day as I arrive, hoping for a close parking space, I work a little bit on my disappearing act. In the Fall I had a parking lot “book giveaway” for students. That was great for me – passing on from my ministry related shelves to young students. Now, everyone who comes into the office leaves with a book or two or three or…

Passing on a handful here or there to other students is soul satisfying. At home, I’m always searching for someone who likes to read what I’ve collected over the years. I’ve had some luck. Years ago I packed away a box full of Tarzan paperbacks to pass on to my grandson – my own grandfather had started me on them. Many don’t read books any more, preferring to stare at a screen. Maybe I’m getting out at just the right time?

“Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realise that nothing really belongs to them.” ― Paulo Coelho

Passing it all on to just the right people

Most of my libraries (and other possessions) have been passed on each week to the veterans organization that comes to my door and faithfully and picks up the boxes I have stacked up. It’s been a great service for me, perfect timing, and little by little, my long life of reading and collecting has disappeared.

It was a thrill to pass on our baby bed – which held my daughter and both grandchildren. An expecting family came over and packed it away in their truck. Another young family came and took the rocking chair we had used. That gives me a better satisfaction than a mysterious donation would have.

“The more material we lose, the less we have. The less we have, the more we win.” ― Anthony Liccione

Contemplating a move to somewhere much smaller, I need to get rid of a lot of furniture. Most is old and worthless but full of memories. For the past handful of years I’m only using a room or two in the house now. In all my years, I’ve never had a garage with less junk in it. I’m awaiting some award to come in the mail. As I go through boxes that have been sealed up for decades, I’m finding all sorts of treasures. Some, I’m passing on to others. So much I had forgotten about. Memories that bring up happiness and longing for those days when we were all so skinny.

Each day I review all that I’ve done on my journey toward “death cleaning” this house I’ve been in for almost 30 years. I’m happy that there’s something to check off the list. Always another step forward. So very satisfying. Something else that needs to be left behind has disappeared. That garage de-junked and my slow slide toward clutter free sainthood a tiny bit further along.

This feeling of accomplishment has another side to it

“Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it’s time for them to be hurt.” ― Haruki Murakami

To be honest, there are two sides of this experience. All that deep satisfaction and accomplishment because real goals are being met. Items checked off the list. Procrastination bred by too much contemplation and uncertainty defeated. But, on the other side of that brightly lit cloud, there’s something else. It seems like I’m also losing my grip on what represents my own life. A house with empty shelves and only photos. On a beautiful day with bright sun and cool breeze, I walk across a campus I put my life into for decades and in a few weeks, this will vanish and I will become that stranger in a strange land.

“Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things.” ― Arthur Schopenhauer

As I walk through this house I lived in, raised my daughter in and watched my wife take her last breath in – I can’t help but feel a profound loss. There’s no question that I’m ready to get on the ship and sail away to my next chapter in life. But when something goes out the door there’s subtle sense that I’m losing something important that I’ll never find again. A nostalgia that just flavors all of our lives as we age and transition. These hard days will pass. They always do, but they leave a trail.

I’m losing so much of who I used to be

Much of this is junky and cheap furniture that I’m trying to get rid of. It reminds me of years gone by, when we were broke, creative and working so hard to build our new lives. Each piece sort of represents something in my mind. My soon to be wife ran off and bought a very cheaply made China cabinet at a garage sale before our wedding. We redecorated it but never replaced it with something more worthy. I just got rid of it. But felt a little like I’d betrayed something sacred about our past. I’m sitting here looking at the empty spot where it was.

Discovering all the old files, boxes and dusty packages I’d forgotten about. Passing on to family and friends something magic. I found two old photos from high school and immediately mailed to a dear friend from way back when, sharing that happy moment caught on film. I do feel like I’m on a treasure hunt as I sort through all this forgotten matter in the back of drawers and closets. Sacred memories of ancient days and dearest ones who’ve traveled to heaven. There’s that nostalgia again.

I’ve got a saying hanging on my wall at home. I read it each day as I pass by:

IT IS WHAT IT IS

So much has changed in my life over the past eight years. I would never have predicted this ride. When I thought one gut-wrenching turn was surely the end, another soon came. What’s true is that I’ve had people on the ride with me all along, never alone. God held my hand in the dark. What else is true is that I have memories that have made my life filled with wonder. This is a treasure I can’t lose.

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

There’s room now for the next me to come together.

Being a grandparent that is!

I had another wonderful grandparent experience recently. These rare days are always the best part of my current journey. But, each time I wave goodbye I’m torn. Spending time with my grandchildren is like a miracle cure to whatever is currently ailing me.  How can I put this in a bottle? I have two and they are each different people each time I’m with them. BUT… as the vehicle drives away, this almost immediate wave of physical exhaustion invades my whole mind, body and soul. I go from mountaintop to needing a fast B12 infusion.

“The simplest toy, one which even the youngest child can operate, is called a grandparent.” ― Sam Levenson

This is difficult for me to figure out. In my past, I spent years as a youth minister. Taking teens to summer camps, retreats and overnight experiences. I even got in trouble one time by an aged pastor who wanted me to be in the office M-F, 9-5. He hadn’t really thought through the strange hours working with youth required. It never seemed to bother me. I was always ready to go without much sleep and energized for the next physical, emotional and spiritual mountaintop.

Which now makes me wonder, when did all my vavoom leak out?

Maybe it’s because, when we are together, we get up very early. My grandson arises before the son, taps me on the forehead and is ready to start watching something on a screen. Used to be a Disney film, then Paw Patrol, now it’s monster trucks. My granddaughter isn’t in a crib anymore. If we’re not quiet, she too get’s up early and joins us in bed, watching something fun. Very early.

“In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.” ― Dwight D. Eisenhower

Several years ago, trying to avoid the catering duties I am called on to perform, I started bringing breakfast items to bed the night before. All ready for an early, early morning. So, when their parents arise, hours later, they find the kids and I all under the blanket, with the glow of a screen on our faces, munching cereal and sipping from juice boxes. I’m still yawning and wiping sleep from my eyes. We’ve had a full morning already.

It’s now a week later and I’m still finding Apple Jacks in my bed.

Maybe it’s because, they’ve each got their own quickly changing agenda. I can put together a well designed plan, but attention spans being what they are at those ages (3 and 7), my well crafted strategies for fun often don’t last much past the first few tries. By the time I make it down to the floor to start the game, they are each up and off to the next new attraction. All the bits and pieces scattered about. I’m not going to tell you how long it sometimes takes me to get back up off the floor…

We try to go for walks these days. Getting out of the house, away from so many distractions, a perfect setting for questions and conversations. There are ducks on the water, birds in the trees, dogs barking, leaves to be picked up, bike riders to step back from, and another sun setting through the clouds. Lot’s of energy to burn off. Everyone has their own walking stick to poke and prod with. Props make everything more fun. Long walks with children should be required for all adults. It helps to put so much else into perspective.

“History begins at ground level, with footsteps.” ― Michel de Certeau

Maybe it’s because I’m not following directions. I’m all ready for each visit with all the sugary treats that makes eyes glow with joy. Mom is ready with a frown and a big NO. They are each always hungry and thirsty for something. I need to have a lot of fruit, milk and snacks. Who wants plain old, plain old? So much junk food and candy produces bouncing off the wall and even shorter attention. I guess it can be like an old fashioned punk rock concert minus the music. I’m too busy chasing to notice.

My three-year-old picks up everything in reach. Mostly all the framed photos I have everywhere. She’s delighted to see herself and all the other faces in her family. She wants to share the joy by handing out large framed pictures to everyone in the room. I’ve noticed with them, everything ends up on the floor. To be honest, I enjoy all these leftovers of their exuberance. Even scattered on the floor. In the days after they’ve left, I wander through the carnage. There are fingerprints galore, an FBI field day. Who decided it was a good idea to have black kitchen countertops, after wiping it all down for the third time that morning. The mom who invented those cannisters of wipes and packets of wet-wipes was a genius!

“My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?” ― Erma Bombeck

My own grandparents were well integrated into my life growing up. Not taking us on trips to Disneyland or throwing theme parties. They were present in the dozens of simple everyday activities. Their house was a safe place where we could grow up, learn and become ourselves. I was the oldest and most misbehaved. Living with a second home was all I knew, didn’t everyone have grandparents like this?

What were your role models like?

That’s the kind of grandparent I have intended to be – as involved as possible in the simple everyday practices of life. It’s taken too long for me to realize, but that’s going to take much more advance planning on my part. Like how to get back up off the floor!

 

“As technology advances in complexity and scope, fear becomes more primitive.” ― Don DeLillo

I’m back at the car dealership. My OnStar works on some days, on other days it doesn’t. Usually it’s decided not to work when I need directions late at night in deep dark downtown Houston or when I’ve got a flat tire. I have already spent three days here with the experts assessing the vehicle computer, ordering the right new part and then installing it. I have to go back to start all over again because the new part is defective. Technology is our liberator and our enslaver – all at once.

In the dealership waiting room we all have to watch the now overly formulaic house flipping television programs. My eyes are rolling back in my head. Customizing a dilapidated house has become a quick fix (with a quick crisis for some drama) that fits into 30 minutes. We long for this kind of predictability but when our technology fails us and the formula won’t produce life’s answer, we get stuck without knowing how to move forward. That’s the real problem.

They have now installed a giant vehicle scanner that I am to drive through (like a carwash) when I come to the dealership for service. When I was growing up, to make extra money on the side, vehicles were repaired in our driveway all night long. The sights, sounds and smells are imbedded in my growing up memory. As I drifted off to sleep, I could hear that power socket wrench whining away. As I drove through that space age sensory device last week, I couldn’t help but remember how simple so much was in my own distant past.

That’s all Dark Ages now. When we first moved to Sugar Land 30 years ago, our auto repair guy told us that just to open the hood would cost $100. All the technology in vehicles required layers and layers of specialization. Up on a jack, late at night, in your driveway fifty years ago is impossible now. Buy my vehicle can tell me when its tire pressure is low!

Recently I spent three days communicating with a customer service technician in India to get my laptop back in working order. After a normal update, it crashed. My contact was very helpful, but it took a long time to get me back to working order. These rare events remind me how dependent I have become on technology to do my job. Learning today has become so dependent on a digital experience.

My wife and daughter were/are digital learning experts. Their everyday mission is to help educators navigate this ever changing landscape and make sure it remains a working tool – not the other way around, a tail wagging the dog. They each love/d guiding others through the confusing dark woods and into the bright light of learning new skills. I’m so blessed to have entered the new frontier with these two. I wish I was a better student! Too often I wait until my hair is on fire. 

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” ― Arthur C. Clarke

As each semester starts I approach my new classrooms with fear. Will the technology work or not? Will I be able to plug in and go with what I’ve got planned? It’s usually hit and miss. The real point is that I’ve become so dependent on my “PowerPoint karaoke set-up” that I don’t really have a Plan B in my back pocket. That’s my problem that I need to solve. I don’t like to do all the talking in classes. I like to use technology to trigger discussion and learning. When my plan is working…

In my Bible Study class this week, for some reason, I couldn’t get my laptop to hook up and “present” on the television screen. Like it does faithfully every week. I turned it off and on, plugged and unplugged, tried to update, even stood on one foot. All of a sudden, the connection happened. Like a three loaves and two fishes miracle. All went according to plan. The whole time I’m trying to figure out my Plan B. Using technology has become a fun new addition to our class each week. But now, I’m very dependent. How does that happen to us?

When we all crossed that river into technology oriented courses I learned the difference between digital immigrants and digital natives. I was an immigrant, my students were natives. I still know just enough to survive, not really enough to thrive. I always resist putting the cart before the horse. Lessons sometimes get lost with too many bells and whistles. I promise, I’m not being a grump.

Do you know that high school students where I am no longer read books in their classes? When they get to college they have real difficulty understanding how to read based on that kind of format. Their instructors assume experience they probably don’t have. It’s a “technology” they don’t know how to work, they’re becoming literary immigrants.

The Atlantic: The Elite College Students Who Can’t Read Books

“To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don’t grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.”  ― Alan Wilson Watts

• I just flew across the country using my phone to access all the critical information necessary.
• Paid a doctor’s bill without ever having to find my checkbook (what’s that anyway?)
• Received payments from friends (from all over) for football tickets this Fall. Put it in the bank, click, click, click

What’s the point of all this? My point here is not to rant but to reflect. Our technology has liberated our lives and at the same time it has enslaved us in many new ways. Especially difficult for those of us who are stuck between transitional shifts. I’ve got to go now and figure out how to file my taxes online this year…do we still have an IRS?

“Our civilization is first and foremost a civilization of means; in the reality of modern life, the means, it would seem, are more important than the ends. Any other assessment of the situation is mere idealism.” ― Jacques Ellul