Memorial Day Story: Coffee, Ink & Tears

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American Soldier, Memorial Day
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Ink

A few weeks ago I made my trek cross-country from Virginia to Arizona to start a new position with The Foresight Companies.  In the back of a 10×10 U-Haul was enough furniture to fill a one-bedroom apartment, my clothes along with living essentials.  My wife proclaimed that if I ever decided to leave her, the truck held everything I would have.  A single day of unloading, unpacking and sorting placed me into my new digs. By early evening I was pretty much set up – even pictures hung.

The next morning, I had to go grocery shopping so I made a list to avoid wandering aimlessly in the aisles wondering what I should buy.  Because of an early morning AO (area of operations) re-con, I knew of a nearly new grocery store about a mile away.  Upon arriving, and since I had no coffee, I found the convenient Starbucks just inside the front entrance.

It was early morning as I had yet to adjust to the Mountain Time zone.  The coffee shop was empty of patrons and I was greeted by a young, smiling gal asking what she may provide for me.  As I gave her my order, I noticed on her right forearm was an unusual tattoo – a banner with Semper Fi atop a flower.  This ink caught my eye because I wondered if she was a Vet; not many Marine Corps tats are adorned with a flower.

So I inquire of her, “Are you a former Marine?”  She answered, “No, but my brother was.”  I asked where and when he served and she told only a few years…and then shared that he was killed in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan.  Tears shot out of my eyes.  I asked her to please tell me about him.

Courtney told me that Justin was killed in a helicopter crash along with several other Marines during Iraq Freedom.  She went on to share that she honors his service and, as a daily reminder of him, got the tattoo.  For those that know me well, there are some subjects that I become emotional over and cannot hold back tears; young people dying for our Country is one of them.

As she made my coffee we chatted a bit and I told her I’m new to town.  Courtney told me where important things were located like shopping areas, good local eats and such.  As she handed me the coffee, she too had tears in her eyes, making mine flow again.  I thanked her for sharing Justin with me, his sacrifice for our freedom, and her kindness to an old sobbing Vet.  I asked Courtney if I could share her story, and she agreed.

I wanted to share this story for a few reasons.  First, pay attention and engage people because everyone has a story.  Second, “those people” with ink have depth (I’m tatted myself).  Finally, God has a way to let you know you are in the right place.  I would have never known about Justin’s sacrifice for our freedom if I had not traveled all the way across our fantastic country, eventually finding myself simply in need of coffee and groceries that first early morning. I’m grateful that Courtney is my barista and friend.

In Memory of Captain Chris Cash.  He gave the ultimate sacrifice June 24, 2004 in Baqubah Iraq. RIP my fellow NCMA Alum.

Unknown

Unknown

For all those that gave the ultimate sacrifice, thank you.  For the rest of us, please take a moment to be grateful.  Our freedom did not come for free.  Happy Memorial Day.

From the Command Post (West), Cheers Y’all! #thefuneralcommander

Alzheimer’s Up Close.

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Funeral Blog, Thoughts
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AZ Post 2

What was once an easy function is now menacing.

Recently relatives visited us just to get together. Ordinarily such an event is simply part of what families do, but this visit was very different for me making yet another impression about how fragile life really is. Hosting the visiting family at our home, we took a ride around the Blue Ridge Mountains. If you have never visited this part of Virginia, the scenery is fantastic, so the day trip was enjoyable with warm springlike weather. Of course I can tell that I am getting older because I actually pay attention to all the landscape and mountains.

One of our relatives visiting has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease for a few years; however because of the distance of the miles between us, we have not spent time with him lately.  This man is a well-respected individual with a meager start, serving at the highest pinnacles of his profession, finally retiring a few years back.  I always admired his thirst for reading with a library of books spanning a wide variety of subjects. Like many of us, he lived his life working for the days that he could relax, travel and spend time on his terms rather than endure the hectic schedules in our busy work lives.

But along the way, the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s came, disrupting an otherwise fantastic life. The man that took both of my sons on trips, came to ball games, and cared for them as his own children now is in need of care himself. I was struck by his bewilderment at times, his silence during conversations and, moreover, by his private struggle of discomfort. Here, a man that at one time had tremendous responsibility over thousands is struggling with simple basics like whereabouts.

The moment that “took me under” was just prior to their departure. His wife brought me a bag of neck ties and she asked if I would tie them for her.  I gladly accepted because I actually enjoy this particular part of being a man and frankly, I do a pretty good job.  While looking in the mirror as I customarily do during the process, I became overwhelmed with emotion. This simple act that he performed for over 60 years of his life was now something menacing.  I stood there looking at myself with his tie wrapped around my neck thinking of all the wonderful times I had spent with him, a man that had done so much for others, including me, could not tie his own tie because of this retched disease.

Although we all pitched in to assist his wife over the weekend with simple movements from place to place, this moment really got to me.  I was honored to tie his ties, but also reminded that we only have today.  If we are healthy, we enjoy a carefree luxury that at some point in our lives may turn into a burden. Not just for ourselves, but for those that love and care for us. I have a renewed respect and empathy for those caring for others, it’s just plain exasperating and exhausting.  Literally everything that was once simple is now a challenge.

Upon completion of getting all the ties tied, I returned them to his wife.  As I handed them to her, I knew that another task was taken off her huge caretaker list. But doing this was more than a help for her, it was a lesson for me. Be grateful for today and those that love you. Have compassion for others that love someone else enough to dedicate their life to making life better for the person they love.  In the end, there is an end.  Enjoy what you have now, it doesn’t last forever.  From the Command Post, Cheers y’all.  #thefuneralcommander

 

It’s personal. Grief, Grace & Gratitude..

November 24, 2015
Thoughts
11 Comments

Happy 3

This is not my typical blog post because it’s deeply personal pouring into words grief, grace, and gratitude.  If you read this in its entirety, you’ll not see my regular content but real, raw life…and death.

As parents our single greatest fear is the loss of our child, no matter their age.  In the funeral home business, we frequently serve such painful and tragic services for the survivors that grieve an early death.  I personally know two funeral industry professionals that lost sons this year.  I had conversation with the parents of one and I was deeply moved as they shared with me about their son along with the anguish they are suffering.

This past Wednesday a young friend, team mate and fellow Military Academy mate of my oldest son Hunter died.  Graduation and life had separated them along with all the other young men that shared their unique educational experience. However, news of the loss spread nationwide among this group of young men that would bring them together once again.

Such an event causes deep introspection and I was moved by the discussions I had with Hunter about life, death but most importantly his personal foundation as a man.  In the midst of tragedy sometimes there is an emergence of realization for things we just cast aside yet now become vividly important.  Listening to him my heart was filled with pain for his loss, pride for his expressed thoughts and emotions along with my inability to slow the steady stream of tears…my own emotions.  He and I are close, but such deep conversations are rare for any men which makes me grateful for our discussions.

Young men trekked from across the country to pay their respects and gather in support of each other as well as the young man’s parents.  But this story gets worse; another young man from this same group died the night before the visitation.  My wife had found a photo of Hunter and the first deceased young man along with a third baseball team mate and fellow student.  I posted the photo below on my Facebook page sharing my grief and prayerful thoughts for all that were suffering from the first loss…and now we are left with only one.

HMA 1

This post is to publicly share my own grief for the loss of two young men, offer condolences to their loved ones and friends.  I also want to share my gratitude that God has blessed me immensely with two sons that I’ll be able to wrap my arms around this week and express my love to them. Only by grace are we all not in such a period of grief that others may experiencing this week from the loss of a child this past year.

I have gratitude that God has provided me a platform to share this along with other experiences globally.  As this is being written, I’d deeply aware of true thankfulness for being loved and respected by those that mean the most to me.  As I get older, the things that I want most cannot be purchased and I truly seek what I admittedly took for granted earlier in my life.

This week of Thanksgiving is different for me because I know of four chairs around family tables that are empty this year because the tragic loss of four young men.  I’m not going to ask the typical “what are you thankful for this week” question.  I’m ask that you to reflect on the true life stories I have shared with you and simply challenge you to express love to those most important to you right now.  There will be empty chairs at someone’s table this time next year…

Normally I conclude with my cigar ablaze and a cheeky good bye.  But today, I close this with tears flowing and earnest thoughts of grief, grace and gratitude.  #thefuneralcommander

Veterans Day 2015; We Made An Oath.

November 11, 2015
American Soldier, Leadership, Oath of Office, Veterans Day
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I swear

Below is the oath by those that serve (or have served us, Commissioned Officer slightly different) in the US Military:

“I, _____, do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”

These collection of words have been affirmed by so many that provide us the freedoms we enjoy today as Americans.  To support and defend.  True faith and allegiance.  Obey orders.  Follow the regulations.  All with the help of God.  This oath is a commitment to serve something bigger than ourselves; our God, our fellow citizens and those that make this choice alongside us.  A cause to die for.

Veterans Day 2015 means that we continue to live in a free country.  This past year many Veterans from earlier generations have died and we currently have citizens are serving us now in harms way. Veterans Day is to honor all that took the oath of office to serve us in our Armed Forces. Veterans Day is for the men and women that offered to give their life for us whether they served in combat on foreign soil, stateside, active duty or reserve. Let me be clear; it’s not first responders day.  My salute to Veterans that served before, alongside and after me.  Thank you for your service and sacrifices to our Nation.

2Lt. Jeff Harbeson, 1984

     2LT Jeff Harbeson, 1984 

Thank a Veteran, they are willing to die for you.  May God continue to Bless America. From the Command Post and the fog of cigar smoke, Cheers Y’all! #thefuneralcommander

A Father’s Day Evaluation; Who is Teaching Who?

June 21, 2015
Uncategorized
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Fathers Day 2015

It’s early morning Father’s Day, like 5:15 am early in the morning.  It’s not unusual for me to be awake and I have the unfortunate disposition of when my eyes open, that’s the end of sleeping because my mind begins to work.  My mind this morning is reflective of Father’s Day and the title of Father. Obviously I think of my two sons and the years that I have held this position; the only position I have held longer is Husband.

I am one to measure most everything by success or failure, either is works or it doesn’t, and no one is a harsher critic of me than the guy that stares back at me in the mirror.  What is a successful Father and on self evaluation, how do I measure up?  If providing myself a realistic and true evaluation, this is a tough question for me to ponder.

When I found out that  I was going to earn the Father title, I was excited and scared to death.  Excited by the possibilities and scared because I was really in all honesty, not prepared for what was ahead of me…but is anyone really?  I did all the things expected of a Father which from my point of view is to love my children, provide for them and to do what I could for them to have a life far better than I.  In many aspects, I believe that I have success in these three areas, but a deeper look, I admittedly failed miserably along the way.  My personality “wiring” is pretty much all or nothing, leave nothing on the table, first one in/last one out and do it right the first time, or don’t bother.  For many segments of life these traits are admired and often revered with such accolades of “leader,” “winner,” and such.  But in the title of Father, such is not necessarily positive or productive.

I was formally trained as a leader, and I had none as a Father.   Expectations of my personal standards are high because as a leader, I have to “have my stuff together” before I could demand that others do the same.  Unfortunately, I have often been wrong in this particular area of parenthood.  The task of being a Father is not to mold a child into a clone; a clone that is better, more driven, or more successful.  The task of being a Father is not to challenge my kids  to reach personal expectations or to make up for the failure in my own life…you know “if I had my time to go over again, I would have” type mentality.

As I write this morning evaluating my position of Father thinking “if I had time to go over again” for last nearly 24 years,  what would I do different?  Love more, correct and expect less.  Let the little and many of the big things go.  As I am told all the time by their Mother (thank God for her), in the end and the big scheme of life, does this incident really matter?  On my deathbed, does cutting the grass too low all the way down to the soil or a dent in the side of my car change the way life will turn out?  No.

What’s most interesting about my position of Father is that my two sons actually have taught me more about life than I thought imaginable.  For all my failed reactions, my high expectations and my demands for excellence on them, all they require of me is to love them for who they are…because that’s what they do for me.  My boys (really men is a better term) love me despite those times when I miserably failed with them.  Of course we have had more happiness and great times than speeding tickets or bad grades; but those times of turbulence place cracks in the foundation of what is built up in the “big scheme of life.”  All the cracks are directly attributed to my handling of situation.

I know and I have witnessed some of my before-mentioned traits that I have passed to both of them, which is necessary in some instances of life, but not all.  Both my son’s love deeply and forgive quickly; their expectations for life are driven to enjoy the moment.  These two cause me to pause, take a step back to realize that I need to be more like them, follow their example.  Yes, I am a successful Father…thanks to my sons providing me unconditional love and becoming better men than I.  That’s all a Father can ask for.  From the desk of The Funeral Commander; Happy Father’s Day Y’all! #thefuneralcommander

Veteran’s Day 2014; “Skin in the Game”

November 10, 2014
American Soldier, Veterans Day
3 Comments
2Lt. Jeff Harbeson, 1984

2Lt. Jeff Harbeson, 1984

It’s the eve of Veterans Day 2014 and this particular day of honor, I become even more patriotically emboldened regarding our great Country.  Yes, I am a flag waving believer in the foundations and Veterans that provide us the freedoms we enjoy.  On Sunday, I was watching a news show and the CEO of Starbucks and author of the book For Love of Country, Howard Schultz was being interviewed.  Mr. Schultz said “Two and a half million extraordinary young men and women have served for the last ten, 15 years in an all-volunteer service. As a result of that, most of America, 98% have not had real skin in the game. We need to have a conversation, be empathetic, be understanding, and do everything we possibly can across the country, in rural America and every town, to hire a veteran.”

His phrase “skin in the game” really struck me and I consider his words profoundly honoring to all Veterans.  To have “skin in the game” one must give something of value and take a risk of achieving a goal.  Yes there are rewards for having skin in the game, but the risk of losing the skin that you put in the game is a real possibility as well.   Our Americans  with real skin in the game come from every walk of life, ethnic group, and from the poorest to the most wealthy zip codes.  But here is the underlying difference between our Veterans and everyone else; they volunteer to put their skin in the game.  They raise their right hand and swear that they will actually support and defend our way of life, even if it means giving their own life.  A US Veteran is anyone that took the oath and not exclusive to combat duty; if they served under this promise, they had “skin in the game.”  Below is the oath:

“I (name), do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will be true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and The Uniform Code of Military Justice.  So help me God.”

Our Nation is grateful for the sacrifice and we have a national debt to honor our commitments for Veteran recognition, education and health care.  Our history is our history because of Veterans.  Upon returning from duty after World War II, Veterans used their skills, work ethic and education opportunities to build what we now know as the middle class.  Since then, nothing has changed because our young Veterans today have even better skills with an understanding of hard work and commitment; they deserve to be first in line for the job, period.

Please watch this video by USAA:  Especially on Veterans Day, when you see a Veteran, step up and thank them for their service.  After all, they put their skin in the game for you and your family.

Hunter HarbesonI have respect for those that served before me, alongside me and serve today.  I am proud that over the years my family put skin in the game to make this Country great and we are still doing so today with my oldest son’s service. From an old Veteran; to all of my fellow Vets that also put their skin in the game, my salute to you and my undying support, So help me God. From the Command Post:  Cheers y’all!  #thefuneralcommander

Would you rather be liked or respected?

June 6, 2014
Funeral Blog, Funeral Operations/Training
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like respectI have been around the proverbial block of leadership in my life from both positions of leader and follower.  Just recently I was having this discussion with one of my partners about behavior modification in funeral homes.  Behavior modification is quite simply changing poor habits and continuous ineffective or unproductive behaviors.  Funeral director training is a behavior modification tool that alleviates continuous ruts.

However, funeral director training is one thing, actually conducting and coaching is quite another.  In our discussion, the topic of like versus respect was broached.  A challenge for many funeral home owners is the difficulty of operating in a close environment.  Conversely, how do other organizations seem to efficiently function in similar “close quarters?”  We discussed an example of a particular funeral home owner that struggles to “take command of his troops” even for the overall good of their firm.  The firm as mired in a continuous struggle for profitability and lacks consistent revenue performance from the revenue makers…funeral directors. The owner just doesn’t want to “rock the boat” which means he fears making necessary decisions, training and performance demands because he may “upset someone” thus not being perceived as “their friend.”  We have both heard many times )I just can’t do that; these people are my friends.”

Another example we discussed is being a parent.  Making decisions as a parent is often adverse to how friends would interact.  However, the inability to make often life decisions for the sake of “being a friend” may have severe consequences for the child over time.

So for the sake of discussion, which would you rather be as a leader, liked or respected?  I believe there are circumstances for both; certainly my answer would be that I would like to be liked and respected.  Let’s narrow this down to the work environment in a funeral home. Would you rather work in an environment and culture of like or respect?  What’s your choice? Cheers Y’all.

 

53 years.

June 3, 2014
Funeral Blog, Humor, Thoughts
5 Comments

53 years53 years.  No more battles to fight, no countries to defend, no oppressed people to free. I remember years ago reading about what happens to men when we get older.  We go from being dangerous warriors seeking battles to fight, running with the ball or tackling the ones that carry it.  It’s happened…now I watch young warriors returning from foreign lands and men playing football on my big screen television.

I am 53 years old today and reflective.  I looked at my uniform now hanging in the closet under plastic (yes it still fits), but it’s not for me to wear anymore.  Frankly, the medals don’t mean anything to anyone else but me now; they are only history.  My greatest successes are not pinned on that uniform, rather they are experiences only I realize…

Over my adult years I have worn many uniforms, performed different jobs and taken on some pretty lofty projects.  I developed a personal mantra of “a vision is only a dream without execution.”  I have dreamed, had visions and executed…I have also failed.

It’s odd coming to the realization that you’re closer to the end than the beginning. I’m not going to put on that uniform for service ever again and I’m not going to tackle the guy carrying the ball.  But let me tell you what I am going to do:

I’m going to execute my visions in the funeral industry and challenge those around me to elevate themselves beyond the norm.  I’m still going to be brought to tears when I hear Toby Keith’s “American Soldier.”   I’m still going to say to new people that I work with “I’m not going to say anything to offend you on purpose; when I want to offend you, you’ll be certain that I wanted to.”    I’m still going to love a good debate. I’m going to keep writing what comes to my mind, expressing my opinion and challenge others to take a stand.

Bugaloe blissI’m going to take care of myself which includes playing golf, smoking cigars and drinking dark rum straight on the rocks with a lime. I’m going to live 50 weeks a year so that I can live for 2 weeks in Aruba…like life should be lived.  53 is a new number for me; the number of consecutive push-ups I require of myself in the mornings just because I can.  I’m not going away easily.  I think I’ll just keep being me.  Cheers y’all! #thefuneralcommander

 

An American Soldier…A Memorial Day Story.

May 23, 2014
American Soldier, Memorial Day, Thoughts
3 Comments

ACaptains 1 few years back a friend of mine and I took the trek to Washington DC over the Memorial Day Holiday to participate in Rolling Thunder.  If you don’t know about Rolling Thunder, its a gathering of Veterans on their motorcycles to honor fellow Veterans that served, still serving and keep the message alive that American POW’s are still unaccounted for.  As a Veteran, I can personally attest to the reverence and emotional feeling being around over 500,000 people that have given so much, but recognized very little.  We speak to each other with honor as we converse; whether a Veteran of Vietnam or the Middle East conflicts, we get it.

My friend Steve Hughes earned a Bronze Star and had retired with over 20 years of service, however he was still carrying quite a bit in his “ruck sack” from his days in combat…I knew this particular trip among other Veterans would prove “freeing” in some ways that are hard to explain to those that have not walked the paths of combat.  We loaded up our bikes and headed up I-81 with other Vets to DC for the weekend on a Friday before Memorial Day.  Arriving on Friday afternoon, we explored some of the venues where events were to take place and just basically performing a “recon” of the area.

On Saturday morning, we got up all excited for what the day would bring and headed out for breakfast.  The particular restaurant we chose was full of Veterans…all wearing vests or hats with medals and patches that only fellow Vets recognize and know the meaning.  As we finished our meal, we were walking out the door when a couple came up to us and asked “is this photo yours?”  It was a photo of my oldest son Hunter in his Hargrave Military Academy uniform…it had fallen from my money clip.  I thanked them, and they asked about the photo and uniform.  I shared with them that Hunter is my oldest son and is a student at HMA.

The couple asked “are you guys here for Rolling Thunder?”  Steve and I shared the story of our friendship.  He was an Officer Candidate at OCS and I was his TAC Officer (drill instructor) many years ago…normally not the great start of a friendly relationship.  After he graduated, I eventually retired and we were not in contact with each other until one day I read a story in a local paper about a boy that was receiving his Dad’s Masters Degree at a university because his Dad was serving in Iraq.  Ended up, it was Steve’s son Josh.  Steve I and I reconnected via email…he in the desert and I in the US.  Steve assisted me on a program I started for a local football team…tagged “Band of Brothers.”

We continued to explain that the “Band of Brothers” was a connector of a high school football team to a combat unit overseas.  The team made specific t-shirts that only we could wear (I was the team Chaplain)..but we also sent shirts to Steve’s unit in Iraq.  Before we took the field for each game, I would provide the players motivation with a mixture of gospel and military talks…there is a direct correlation between battle, fighting for a cause with another, and a belief in something bigger than yourself.  We prayed for Steve’s unit on their battlefield…on the other side of the world at the exact same time, members of Steve’s Infantry unit prayed for our team as we took to our “battlefield.”  We finished our story with a few events of that experience including winning the State 4A football championship that year…and that Steve and I were there just to be together with other Veterans to honor and remember.

I asked the couple if they lived locally and they responded no…they were from out of town and there to visit their son at Arlington.  “Arlington” I asked, “is he stationed there?”  “No” the mother said; “he is buried there.”  With an immediate and almost convulsing rush of emotion, tears shot from my eyes…as they are right now as I write this story.  “Our son was killed during a river crossing in 2003 while serving in Iraq…vehicles turned over and he died trying to save other soldiers.”  Steve and I stood there crying…without any words we hugged and cried thanking these parents for their sons sacrifice for our freedom.  They told us more about their boy and we completed our extemporaneous memorial service in the parking lot.  I gave the mother the picture of my son Hunter and asked her to place his photo on the grave of their son..to honor him. The rest of the weekend seemed to be a blur of emotional conversations and sharing much of the past that only warriors understand.

I share this real life event because Memorial Day is upon us…yes, it’s great to have a day off Monday going to the beach, cooking out, playing golf or just plain resting.  But the day is really to remember sacrifices of those that gave their all for us.

I dedicate this story and the song by Toby Keith below to the memory of Captain Chris Cash, a fellow NCMA graduate who gave his life June 24, 2004 for our Freedom.  Take a few moments to listen to the words…the song was played at Chris’s funeral.

When you see one of us this weekend wearing our uniform, hat, vest or shirt that you may not understand all the insignias, but clearly identifies the wearer as a Veteran…thank them.  They probably have a story too.  Happy Memorial Day…cheers y’all.

 

Getting older IS funny!

March 24, 2014
Thoughts
12 Comments

acute_angina1 Okay, so this time last year I was recovering from a serious medical event that should have, for all practical purposes killed me.  But as my kids say, “it’s hard to kill ’em”  (referring to my side of the family).  I distinctly remember being in the back of a siren-blasting ambulance thinking to myself that with all the close calls in my life including Iraq scud missiles bursting overhead upon the impact of our Patriot missiles, this little episode isn’t going get me either.

Upon arrival, at the hospital and some excellent quick work by the cardiac physician on duty, my “widow maker” was reopened and I was extended life…again.  After being moved into the ICU strapped down like a Hannibal Lecter, I then endured the barrage of family, friends, and medical staff coming to see that I again cheated death, and of course to tell me that I have to “slow down.”  Yeah right.

Interestingly my diet was pretty good, I exercise regularly and had a physical only 2 months prior and I did well with “no issues.”  Obviously, they got this one wrong.  Thanks to modern medicine, I’m going to keep living life, but better living through chemicals…you know medicine.  I never took medicine beyond some seasonal allergy stuff and in my younger days, a bottle of Pepto Bismol after a night of alcohol buffoonery. So, one change of getting older…I now watch the drug commercials sometimes wondering if what I’m taking is going to give me bleeding eyes, itchy ears, and some “seeping” issues as side effects.

After 3 days in ICU, I went home and was on “house arrest” which meant I was supposed to chill. The second day I jumped in my car just to drive around for some scenery change and a cigar. During my confinement, I also had to be “taken” to the hospital to meet with the rehab folks to “get me in line” so I could live longer.  When I walked into the rehab facility, I thought I was at a geriatric health club.  I have never seen so many white Rockports and exercise suits in my life.  The counselor proceeded to ask me questions about my family history, my eating habits, work habits, exercise routines, social habits, etc.  Upon conclusion and her review, she started right off the top with “well, you are going to have to stop eating chips and drinking any alcohol and the cigars must go.”  At that, I laughed and said “nope, I must go…now”…never to return.

Okay, so here is my theory on life and getting older.  First, either you do or you don’t.  I refuse to do anything other than to live what I have left any other way than what makes me happy…cigars and all. If eating chips sometimes is going to kill me, so what…I am going to die of something.  Medicine? Well, I have not had any notable side effects that would cause me to stop my taking prescriptions, but I still pay attention to the commercials. I’m not going to wear white Rockports for exercise, and yes golf is exercise. I currently have severe hearing loss from my military days and really is no solution for tinnitus. …so I’m the “what did they say” guy already.  I will drive until someone hides my keys.  As if this is a revelation, as I get older I will continue to speak my mind…I’m a believer of not telling you to go to hell, but the truth, and that feels like hell.  If you are a woman, I’ll call you “ma’am” no matter your age, I won’t write the response to women here that find that “offensive” .  When I think you look nice, I’m going to tell you, get over yourself, I’m not hitting on you.  I’m still too vain with my hair not being combed in public and not dress nice. I refuse for my belt buckle to point downwards (from an oversized belly)…nor am I going to pull my pants up just below my nipples (at least not yet). Getting older also, for whatever reason (maybe from overuse when we are young) our sex life slows up a bit…oh well. On rare occasions, this subject presents tough decisions. Frankly, sometimes I choose a good sandwich, chips, and watching football…unlike sex, it lasts longer and I can nap along the way.

A year later, I’m still pretty much me.  I want to continue to be no one else and try to bring humor (my style) to approach life… my acuteangina and all.  If I had known I had one, I probably would have done things differently a long time ago.  Getting older is funny…Cheers y’all.

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