Skip to main content

160th Birthday

My brother, Stan, and our uncle, Harold,
were born precisely thirty years apart.
They celebrate their birthdays together;
most recently, their 160 birthdays.
Just to save you from all the trigonometry
and triangulation, Harold is 95.

Harold's drivers license expired,
so he took the renewal test.
His eyesight was fine, but then they asked
what medications he was taking.
He hesitated, fumbling for an answer.
"What medications?" she insisted.
"I don't take medications!" Harold replied.
"None!  That's how many!  None!"
"OK," she told Harold.  "Your next renewal
will be in five years."

I had to explain to Harold that you cannot
get to 100 without a drivers license,
but that it was worth the hassle.

Harold and Ruth are to wonder at.
Ruth's mother lived to be 107,
but she had to be hospitalized
for several days toward the end.
She was probably weakened by
the medications Harold doesn't take.

Harold says he isn't as hearty
as he used to be, several decades ago,
when he and Ruth retired and spent
several years in the Peace Corp in Africa.
Even so, things are looking up!

(You will notice that I have not said much
about the kid, Stan, who is only 65.
The Hanson family--that's Ruth's side--
is still waiting to see how he turns out.)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Friends-- My step-father of 35 years died this morning. His name was Conrad Royksund. He was 86 years old. He was born into poverty on a farm near Puyallup, WA. He was the first member of his family to attend college and earned a PhD from the University of Chicago. He paid his way through all of that by fishing in Alaska. He spent his professional career as a college professor. I met him when I was just 3 years old and don't actually have any memories of my life befor e he was in it. He was intimidatingly smart, funny as hell, and worked his ass off. He taught me to meet people with kindness and decency until I was certain they could not be trusted. He taught me to meet ideas with carving knives until I was certain they could. I will remember him as one of the bravest, most curious, and funniest people I have ever met. He left this world with a satisfied mind. We are so grateful. Dan Hubbard

The Sea is Rising

Let us just step back:  two hundred and fifty years ago, or so, the ships of England and Spain had drifted onto a whole new continent, as they saw it, from far north to a savagely cold south; pole to pole, as if there were such things. Millions of people already lived here, some of them still hunters and gatherers; some of them very wealthy, indeed!  Gold and silver stolen from the southern Americas funded Spanish and English dreams. There was land, lots of land, under starry skies above, rich land, and oil and coal and iron ore.  The whole western world learned how to build industries not on simple muscle power, but on steam and oil.  We farmed, too, of course.  All we needed was cheap labor--slave labor from Africa, mostly, so the ships came with slave labor.  Chinese labor built railroad beds where there had been rock cliffs. Europeans, long used to killing each other for good, religious reasons, brought their religious savagery with them. ...

That's all we want: fairness! Not more guns and more war! Fairness!

The five police officers who were killed in Dallas are certainly not the officers who killed innocent citizens. There is more than enough tragedy to go around. "What is happening to our country?", Mari asked this morning. I had no answer.  We do have an answer.  We do not want to say it. There are lots of answers, all of them pertinent. We are a racist society, like most human societies. We are a society in the midst of enormous changes-- social, political, economic--and we do not know what to do about it. We are divided unsustainably into absurdly rich, and an enormous number of crumbling middle class families, and poor. We have guns everywhere; military guns, guns just for killing people, cheap guns, heroes carrying guns into churches and supermarkets, idiots who think guns ought to be allowed in bars and schools and ball games and beauty parlors and political rallies. Our political process is almost useless. There are good people in Congress, but there...