Thought for the Day: Help

Remember what she says:

In the event of a decompression, an oxygen mask will automatically appear in front of you. To start the flow of oxygen, pull the mask towards you. Place it firmly over your nose and mouth, secure the elastic band behind your head, and breathe normally. Although the bag does not inflate, oxygen is flowing to the mask. If you are travelling with a child or someone who requires assistance, secure your mask on first, and then assist the other person.

It's always a good idea to make sure you have prepared yourself before you try to help others.

Herb Ratliff

Thought for the Day: Father's Day

Dad's Life Work on his 70th Birthday

I was thinking about Father's Day.

For everyone there is a relationship with someone that completes the circle. It's pretty much the same with fathers. Not everyone has a father to grow up with and that's OK because someone comes in to fill that void. As a matter of fact, it may not be someone. It may be some several.

My father was imperfect. Imagine that! But, he was what he could be. When I look back at the life he led, it was, in most part all done for the benefit of the family. That is not true for every day he took breath but from my perspective, it's true most of the time. The parts you can pick out and refer to as exceptions to that are just that, exceptions.

There are men who came in to fill the vacancies left by my dad. Dad worked  two full time jobs. If you have two eight hour jobs and sleep for eight, you have just used up a full day. Add into that travel to and from work, eating, personal hygiene and so on, it cuts into the sleep part. Playing catch in the back yard, while it might be fun, doesn't factor into that very well. So, what's the point?

The point is: each of us does what we consider to be the best use of our skills and time. There are some who may not and usually do not agree with our choices. We could even agree with them but not have the confidence, skill or courage to do it another way. But there are many who do not have the confidence, skill or courage to do it at all.

It's taken all of my life for me to gain a small understanding of what kind of courage it takes to be who you are, to try to be better, to keep trying after failing, to admit my own mistakes and to forego criticism of others who are doing the best they can.

So on Fathers Day what I want to say is: "Thank you, Dad. You are an amazing man."

Herbert B. Ratliff, Jr.

Thought for the Day

Have you ever marveled at the disappointment

you feel when people don't do what you didn't

ask them to do, but expected?

Herb Ratliff

Why Not Dance?

If we’re kept within a prison

there’s no lock can make us stay.

Lest our hapless, weary posture

simply let’s us waste away.

And if songs are sung around us

in the Winter or the Spring

But our voice is deathly silent

It’s not the fault of quieting.

When the wren darts to the sill plate

of the window we look out

And the song bursts from his small heart

lauding life and love, no doubt.

Dare we not release the handcuffs

which lock us down each day

And find somewhere within us

Something good or kind to say?

Reach out farther, oh my brother,

give your heart and mind a chance

Lift your spirit and your heels

It is your life, so why not dance?

Herb Ratliff, January 4, 2013, All Rights Reserved

What I Did The Summer of 1959

Thought For The Day

In the summer of 1959 I was seriously in need of a job. I was beginning to panic. There seemed to be nothing available and from out of the blue I got an offer I couldn't refuse.

If you remember 1959 you'll recall that was the year our President, Dwight D Eisenhower made the first phone call to Canadian Prime Minister, John Diefenbaker by bouncing a radio signal off the moon. Now, we use satellites as bouncers. The US launched half a dozen satellites that year and sent a couple of monkeys into space which returned unharmed.

Jack Kilby of Texas Instruments filed a patent for the Integrated Circuit.

It was also the summer of the "Kitchen Debates". Richard Nixon, then Vice President and Nikita Krushchev, Russia's top man exchanged barbs. Nixon proclaimed that our technological advancements in kitchen appliances would make kitchen duties for  women easier and Krushchev retorted, "Russian women aren't confined to the stove." (I know, you were wondering when that started.)

One of the more notable enterprises of 1959 was the introduction of the Xerox 914. There had been "wet" process copiers for a while but the Xerox was the first dry technology system. Hence, Xeros, Greek for dry and 914 which alluded to the capability of reproducing a 9" by 14" document.

My job? I was in church discussing the serious lack of work opportunities with a friend within ear shot of my mother. A gentleman from the congregation overheard us and approached, he said he had a rather large field of sugar beets that needed to be hoed and would pay us .75 cents an hour to do it. My mother accepted the offer almost before he completed the sentence. I had been thinking of an executive position. Welcome to humility. Mother said something about "living by the sweat of your brow" and I mumbled something inappropriate that was thankfully lost in the exchange.

"Thank you?" It took all my strength to say it. Fortunately my friend accepted the job too and so my summer was spent in the fields hoeing sugar beets for seventy five cents an hour. 

Sometime, if your job really seems like the pits. Go out into an agricultural area and find a field of low lying crops. Walk out into the field and stand at the edge of the field. Turn and look the full length of the row and imagine making certain that no weeds are in that row after you have walked the entire length and removed them. Your reward is to turn and walk back on the next row all day long. 

Just for the record, seventy five cents wasn't that much in 1959 either. But, after a full day I would accrue $6.00 and $30.00 for the week. I didn't date much that summer.

©Herb Ratliff, July 9, 2012, All Rights Reserved

While You Were Out: Part II

Thought For The Day

From yesterday: While You Were Out


On a fourth of July weekend somewhere around their child's third year I invited them over for a cookout. As fate would have it the event we speak of was just after the Berber carpet was installed.  In planning the event I gave no consideration to child care. Since it was a cookout, hot dogs and hamburgers seemed the logical choice along with cold slaw, potato salad and baked beans, finished off with chocolate cake and ice cream.

This is going to take a little longer than I thought. Stop by tomorrow for the rest of the story.

Part II

When my friends arrived I was almost surprised to see their daughter. I was not accustomed to being around people with small children. She was a lovely child, pretty and charming but then she started exploring. A three year old in an adult males apartment is not a pretty sight. Everything needed to be picked up and put in a holding area until the tiny explorer left.

This is when my obsessive nature began to rear it's ugly head. I began thinking about the food. How could I manage cooking, serving and controlling a three year old with baked beans, chocolate, ketchup and mustard on a paper plate? I knew the guests would not be concerned about my cream Berber carpet. I could see the ketchup on it, being ground into the fibers with grubby little hands. Damn! What could I do?

Seems like something else was happening of interest, maybe Wimbledon. Anyway, there was something being watched on tv and people were wandering around inside and out chatting, munching exploring. I was preparing the hot dogs and hamburgers while obsessing over the carpet and ketchup.

When the burgers and hot dogs were finished I placed them on a buffet table along with condiments and accessory dishes. I invited people to help themselves to food and went back into the kitchen to take a quick inventory of what was out and what would come out later. Then, she caught my eye. The little person was getting her own food. Damn! I rushed over to help her. She didn't require any assistance. (I think that's the adult version of: "No! Me get.") I was hovering over her with fear and trepidation and wondered why her parents were so calm and relaxed. I needed a quart of Maalox.

To my absolute amazement. She got her food, accessorized it, ate it and put her plate in the waste basket without a crumb hitting the floor. (I , on the other hand, had developed a bleeding ulcer.)

When folks left I sat on the patio for a bit and then went to the pool and took a swim. I didn't realize how tired I was until I woke up from an hour long nap. When I awoke I was starved. It was then I realized I had not eaten. I was seriously hungery.

I went back to the house and fixed myself a couple of hot dogs, slathered with onions, ketchup, et al, loaded my plate with potato salad, cold slaw and baked beans; threw on a couple of brownies and headed for the TV room to watch some more tennis. As I hustled through the living room I stumbled when the plate started to give way under the weight of the meal atop it. Only then, in painfully slow motion, did I see what all of those things that I worried about a three year old spilling, could do to a new, cream colored, Berber carpet.

So, if it gets in your head and you start focusing on it, it will happen; just not necessarily in exactly the same way you think it.

©Herb Ratliff, July 3, 2012, All Rights Reserved

While You Were Out

Thought For The Day

When you think things, they usually happen, but not always in the way you thought they would happen.

When I lived in South Florida I had a townhouse in a small golf course community. It was ideal for me. There was a swimming pool, tennis courts and golf at the ready. There was no maintenance for me to do day to day, security was provided and there was even a hospital close by for medical services.I traveled a lot. It was not uncommon for me to be away a couple of weeks at a time.

So when I returned from a lengthy business trip to find an old friend sitting in my kitchen amid fans, rolled up carpeting, open doors and windows, it was more comforting than shocking. I immediately knew there had been a problem and more importantly that it had been addressed.

He greeted me with.... "You had a leaky water heater. It's been replaced. We'll have the rest of this stuff dried in a few hours. Got another place you can stay a couple of days?"

That isn't what you are looking for after a long trip.

During the next few days it was insurance adjusters and color selection for paint, carpet and the rest. My friend owned the company doing the work so it was fast, high quality and thorough. The carpet ended up being a Berber. It was cream colored, but since I lived alone I figured I could make do with it. A moment of lost perspective led me down the primrose path of forgetfulness. I am far too punctilious for cream colored carpet.

When living alone one quickly overlooks bad decisions. There is no one there to remind you of those errors in judgement. They lie dormant until you are subpoenaed to the court of practicality.
So here we begin that case.

I have some friends who are writers. They do it for a living and they do it rather well. It is a second marriage couple and so children did not come up as an issue until the biological clock of the incubator began to creep dangerously close to edge of dormancy. Then a darling baby girl was born and became the highlight of their lives.

Artistic types make for interesting parents. They just see the world differently than earth people. So, there are certain conceits they are less likely to embrace. There is rather, an excessively laissez-faire approach to parental control. When their daughter became ambulatory she was immediately given free reign to advance her dispositions in a very democratic arena. This was a rather alien concept to me as a somewhat hands on dad.

On a fourth of July weekend somewhere around their child's third year I invited them over for a cookout. As fate would have it the event we speak of was just after the Berber carpet was installed.  In planning the event I gave no consideration to child care. Since it was a cookout, hot dogs and hamburgers seemed the logical choice along with cold slaw, potato salad and baked beans, finished off with chocolate cake and ice cream.

This is going to take a little longer than I thought. Stop by tomorrow for the rest of the story.

©Herb Ratliff, July 2, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Summer Morning

Thought For The Day

Near Yellowtail Dam, Fort Smith, Montana



Summer mornings break more softly.

If Spring is Champagne,

summer is a rich, earthy Bordeaux,

not lavishing one with quick bursts of excitement,

but slowly enriching the palate

with hints of oak, mushroom and peat,

then finishing in an orchestral

denouement of sensuality,

like a sigh.


Even the bright sounds of birds,

rise more roundly like

a mother brushes her child's hair

from out of their eyes and cups

her hand to hold his cheek and

lingers there with her eyes.


The low sun quickly warms

all creatures with

gratitude

for

a summer day.



©Herb Ratliff, June 19, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Feeling Good

Thought For The Day

Zoe and Charley

I'm not sure you ever really understand how much giving is about satisfying your own need for acceptance and appreciation until you have a dog. Where I have written dog you may substitute, cat or horse. Children also may be used there, but only if you have figured out how to have a predictable relationship with them. I'm about to lose control of this and I've only just started.

Charley is my part this and part that "rescue" dog. He enjoys being brushed. For him, that is like a day at the spa, I suppose. I have never been to a spa. Anyway, he sheds, big time. I am constantly aware of his unwanted contribution to my untidy house. It just goes with the territory. It occurred to me once while I was bathing him  and using a brush to make sure the shampoo got down to the skin, that if I had done that before the bath I might avoid dealing with all of that wet dog hair. And so, I began brushing him regularly. At first he was not interested. Gradually he became more and more appreciative of the activity and now when I offer to "brush" him, he is at the ready the moment I offer.

For my part, I began the process because it helped reduce the amount of ambient fur in the house. OK, not much but it gave me illusion of being helpful. Then, I noticed how much he had gotten into the process. His whole demeanor would change when I offered to brush him. He would run for the door and wait for the fun to begin. 

As I brushed him I could almost hear him making grateful groans and saying "a little to the left" as we proceeded. After I decided that enough of this had happened he would start running in circles and jumping about. That is his method of saying thank you or I'm very happy. But what really surprised me was how good I felt. And all I had done was brush him. 

I've learned a lot from Charley. He has been responsible for teaching me a number of things. And, a reminder that being attentive and thoughtful to those around you is a very good thing, even if you get some pleasure from it too.

©Herb Ratliff, June 18, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Thanks Dad

Thought For The Day

I was more inclined to complain about the limitations of my father than to praise him. He knew that he was not the object of adulation, but went right on working anyway.

I grew up with five sisters, a stay at home mom and an absentee father. Not really absent, but he was gone most of the time. Gone because he worked an eight hour shift, unless he could get overtime, at Saginaw Steering Gear, a division of GM. He also was the proprietor of a small shoe repair shop, Economy Shoe Rebuilders where he spent another eight hours or more. He was not given to sports or other activities with friends, save an occasional get together with some musical pals with whom he could exercise his musical talent. And, his talent was considerable. Whatever else occupied his time, spending it with his family was not where he shined.

He and my mother had a tenuous relationship at best. This is not the place for that discussion, but suffice it to say, they needed each other, and that seemed to be the driving force in their relationship. What that need was is between them and that's where it belongs.

Dad began each week day by going into the Shoe Shop. He stayed there until about 3:00PM, then came home to a hamburger and canned peaches. There was no variety here, that was the daily fare. After eating he would either drive or have mom drive him to the Steering Gear where he worked until midnight. Quite often mom would go over and have "lunch" with him at work, then go and pick him up after work was completed.

On Saturdays he worked full time in the Shoe Shop unless overtime work was available which he would very often take. Sunday was a church day and dad would participate most of the time but not always. Church was not his preferred venue.

Sunday dinner was the weekly reward for going to church. We normally had quite a nice dinner and we all ate together. Sometimes we would go on picnics. When that happened it usually involved cousins and lots of good food that was punctuated with musical renderings by talented aunts, uncles and cousins along with my parents and sisters.

Dad was never offered the Pulitzer Prize or a position on the president's cabinet. He never ran for office. He wasn't a great hunter or fisherman. He didn't graduate from high school or college. What he did along with mother was provide a home, food and an education for six children. He taught us that not all that you do is reflected in what you personally have, but has a way of showing up like a vein of gold through hard rock and scrabble in the people you touch.

I do not believe I ever said so much as thank you to him for all the years he gave to make my life better than his. I even had the audacity to think he should have done more.

I was sitting in the funeral home alone one afternoon before his interment and a friend from high school came by to visit. It was a surprise to see him. He told me some stories about dad and visits he had with him. It was good to hear a friend talk about the man I barely knew in a warm and friendly way.

Happy Fathers Day, Dad. I wish I had gotten to know you better. And, thank you dad, thank you ever so much for all you did for me.

©Herb Ratliff, June 15, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Communication

Thought For The Day

Communication in a nutshell:

I can explain it to you, but I cannot understand it for you.

Herb Ratliff, June 13, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Justine's Part 2

Her smile was relaxed and easy like she was greeting an old friend. She waited for an answer.
I was having a little trouble finding my voice.

She was very attractive and still in that ethereal place between the picture and reality. I'd been going since 5:30 AM and it was now past 9:00PM. I managed to utter something.

Then, she said, "I'm Justine."
And, capturing the situation perfectly she quickly took control and began a commentary about the food, what was fresh, a little about home grown vegetables and then how splendid the weather was and wasn't it a pity the Gazebo was full? It's such a fine place to have dinner.

She was so elegant, so charming and so welcome after the long day I had spent criss-crossing the country. I asked her if she would like a glass of wine.

Her reaction was measured but swift. "Yes", she said, so I stood and held her chair.

She asked if I would mind if she had a bottle of her favorite wine brought out and then began a conversation filled with interest and coincidence of remarkable proportions.

Things like that don't happen very often. As a matter of fact, I can say with considerable certainty that nothing like that will ever happen to me again. You never know when you lift your head from the pillow what the day holds for you, so no matter how it goes for the the first few hours, do not despair. What is waiting for you at the next bend in the road may make it all worth while.

I know that you would like to know a bit more about that evening and frankly, I would enjoy spending a bit more time remembering it, but I've shared all I am willing to. She was as much a lady as she appeared and I was as much a gentleman as I ever hoped to be.

The restaurant was closed a few years ago, 1995, I believe. The name and facility was auctioned off but the ambiance was not for sale. So, while you may be able to find a restaurant named Justine's in Memphis and a few other places, you will not find the one mentioned in this remembrance.

©Herb Ratliff, June 12, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Paying Attention, Really

Thought For The Day

Sometimes what is really amazing is how little attention we pay to things that are truly amazing.

When I worked in the financial field of computer technology and development there were many things that were done by both hardware and software engineers which were literally changing the world. It was sometimes hard to comprehend how these ideas could be conceived, let alone produced and made available for use in the home and office.

Consider how it would have sounded to Thomas Edison if you had suggested that you had created a language which if used properly would allow you to talk to a machine. Further, you would be able to tell the machine to follow a variety of different instructions if and only if you could create a machine which could read instructions which were essentially a series of electrical impulses which did nothing more than say open or close.

That would be amazing, right?  OK, it's a little difficult to compare yesterday's world with today's. But that is, in a nutshell what the early computers did. They read one's and zero's as yes and no, or open and close. What made it all work was the exceptional speed at which the processor was able to read these instructions. By the way, those speeds today are snail like.

I am fairly certain that people who don't even care about computers would be willing to agree that they are exceptional tools. So let me get to the point of this thought, paying attention to amazing things which came to me as I was thinking about all the flying I did when I was working in that field.

One day I was sitting on a plane bound for California from from Michigan. The early instruction sets had been offered by the flight attendants, preparations were being made for beverage service and I was settling in with a book when the captain in a smooth, confident voice began to give us a bit of a trip tic for our journey. He began by saying that we would be cruising at an altitude of     35,000 feet. (That's a little over six and a half miles above the ground, I thought.)

Hmm, I murmured, that's about how far it was from my childhood home to the High School I graduated from. He then said, "We'll be traveling at about 550 miles per hour." That's when I pulled out my calculator. After a bit of figuring, eye brow raising and reconfirmation I discovered that in understandable terms that meant that we were moving in a straight line at the rate of  807 feet or a little over two and a half football fields a second.

That, is amazing, wouldn't you agree?

©Herb Ratliff, June 1, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Old Friends and Old Habits

Thought For The Day

Jim Trembley

The last Saturday in April is the traditional opening of Trout Season in Michigan, a day that I looked forward to above all others for many years at least for my own benefit. The long, cold, grey winter could not diminish or dilute the longing to enter the river, fly rod in hand to test my skills against the wary trout. It was one of those spiritual moments when I became a part of the water, the environment and the promise of life's goodness. Here began the soft music of the fly line whistling through the air, the soft gurgle of the river, the ambient sounds of birds and insects all arranged in such precision that I felt weightless and intractably immersed in pure harmony.

Sometimes I got immersed in the river. Wading in a stream is an interesting way to spend a day. It is not without problems and surprises.

When I graduated from University of New Mexico and moved to Flint, MI I met a man who would become my closest ally in the world of fly fishing. Jim Trembley had grown up in Flint and in his pursuit of his goal of Eagle Scout had been exposed to nature in the best possible way, through the leadership of men who cared deeply for a good design for living, respect of people and the environment and a love of nature. Jim and I became frequent partners on the ride to the Au Sable  River. We would often take off on Tuesday evenings and drive north to the South Branch and fish the Mason Tract late into the night. We would fish all day Wednesday and return that evening. We rode together, had lively conversations and then fished alone and met at an agreed upon time to discuss our results. Sometimes the results were less about fish and more about how many different kinds of larvae live in the river that you can see quite clearly while sitting on a log by the bank or the richness of bird and animal life in the area.

Jim also ties flies and provides me with an endless supply them. Truth be told, every fish of size and memory that I have ever caught has been deceived by Jim, but he's a lawyer. What can I say?

Saturday I will not be fishing with Jim but I will be thinking about him and all the openers we spent together, I am in Atlanta, GA now and he still lives in Flint. Hopefully we will get together this summer for a fly fishing appreciation day if he isn't too old and tired for it.

Herb Ratliff, April 26, 2012, All Rights Reserved

The Pelican Brief

Thought For The Day

It was just a few months into being a single parent. Scheduling ended up being one of the bigger problems. Everyone seemed to have something to do other than being on time. The lives of the kids get busier because they were busy to start with and now the going back and forth just added to the normal confusion. I was on my way to pick up my youngest from her alternate home, wondering what we would have for dinner, whether we would make it to the meeting on time and reminding myself to make sure she had all of her school books. It was an unusually pleasant evening for south Florida. The humidity was low, temperature very comfortable, a clear sky and just a zephyr of a breeze off the ocean. I pulled the car up to the house and Lindsay was waiting with her things on the porch. It still seemed odd to do this dance. Lindsay has a smile that can light up a room. When she saw me she was smiling and when I got out of the car she met me with a big hug and a handful of stuffed animals.
After we loaded the car, we exchanged our hellos and got to the business at hand, what are we doing for dinner? Most of the reliables were not hitting the target and I needed to get some gas so I pulled into a station to fill up. We went into the station together to settle up and Lindsay spotted some junk food racks and asked if she could have something that could not have been anything but colored sugar. I took a quick inventory of the available food stuffs and decided to attempt to make a meal out of what was there.
Loaded up with what could only be termed the most non-nutritious meal since Boy Scout camp, we headed out and Lindsay said, "Let's have a picnic.", I agreed and we headed for a local Park. It was pretty much deserted so we had a lot of choices for a spot. We parked and for some reason which now escapes me, decided to eat in the car. It was party time and the sugar just helped it along. We were laughing and talking and giggling when out of the blue it sounded like someone had launched a basket full of oranges into the air and they had all individually fallen on the top of the car. It absolutely shocked both of us into statue like states. We were frozen in place, looking at each other and then out the window. I immediately thought it was kids making mischief but unable to see anyone or anything, I got out of the car and there in perfect formation, just beyond the car were a half dozen pelicans. I turned and looked at the car, it had been thoroughly whitewashed and the mystery was solved. Lindsay let out a primal yuuuuuuuuuuck and we headed for the car wash.
Now, whenever Lindsay and I are together, if we should happen upon a pelican or two, a wide grin begins to form and sometimes uproarious laughter emerges without control. The food may have been without any nutritional value but the laughter and the memory still makes us smile.

Herb Ratliff, April 25, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Bulls-eye!

Thought For The Day

In the mid summer of my seventh year my parents were investigating the merits of a variety of churches. One Saturday afternoon they had invited some missionary's over for dinner. I don't recall whether it was two or four but there were enough that I was able to snare one long enough to take me down to the local market to buy something my mom needed for dinner. Because this was in many ways like a hunting trip, I decided to take along my bow and arrows for protection from bear, wolves and cougars. There was enough diversion that my mom and dad were unaware of my need to bear arms and even though the missionary questioned my motives, she was more interested in attracting my interest than offering another source of judgement.

As we walked I stalked all forms of game for the larder. Rabbits abounded and I think I saw a deer or an antelope on the edge of the woods. There was even a moment when in the shadows I'm quite sure the movement my eagle eyes detected was a black bear. My hunting persona was alert and prepared for any challenge and I was feeling very strong and manly.

As we walked together we talked and laughed. I would aim and draw back on my bow from time to time to stay alert in case of danger. Without any warning an open milk truck drove by and without a moment's hesitation I raised the bow, slotted the arrow, drew back and released the perfect shot into the unsuspecting milkman and hit him in the knee.

I do not know who was more surprised, the milkman, the missionary or me. What I do know is that I stopped breathing, the missionary stopped breathing and the milkman stopped the truck. He got out, arrow in hand, (the arrow was the kind that had the little pink suction cup on the end) and began to walk toward the missionary and me. We were transfixed. He slowly advanced until he was standing, towering over me, knelt down and offered the arrow with a simple, "I believe this is yours." . My heart was in my throat. In the deadly silence that followed I knew that I was headed for jail and maybe the hangman's noose. Then, he stood up and laughed the biggest belly laugh I have heard before or since. His parting words were, ""That was an amazing shot."

It was a while before word  of the event reached my parents. I used a bit more restraint with my bow and arrow for a while but I still think that was a bear I saw in the woods.

Herb Ratliff, April 23, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Where the &*#@$%% are you going?

Thought For The Day

It seems a small thing but it is one of the more useful small things upon which most of us have agreed for  many years that has in the last few years seemed to have gone away. It is the convention of bearing to the right when walking in buildings, on sidewalks, paths, jogging, walking the dog and other like activities. It no longer seems to be an applied convention and it is, at times, really annoying and sometimes downright painful. The painful part is when the idea of sharing the designated space is not expressed in an amenable way, but rather approached as Wide World of Wrestling participant might approach an opponent. An expression only useful if you are angry and larger than the opposing perambulator.

I have never been given to convention for convention's sake but I must say that certain agreements of the human race are useful. This is one is of particular value because of its tendency to keep the flow of people speedy and without injury. To see it all but ignored is a bit frightening. I have been battered and banged by belligerent bipeds in churches, businesses, parks and hospitals without so much as a "pardon me". 

Are we really in that big a hurry? Is getting to a place that important? Is the intransigence of holding your space in the wrong lane important enough to injure old folks and children? But the real question is what do you give up by contributing to a predictable flow of people. Is it an affront to your individuality, an invasion of your right of expression or an admission of inferiority?  What gives?

If you can bear to the right in your automobile in the interest of avoiding expensive repairs to your body and your car's body why not do it when you are walking too? Please.

©Herb Ratliff, February 1, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Baby, The Rain Must Fall

Even the bird songs drip.

The rain, ceaselessly saturates the ground, the air, my thoughts.

There is no sunshine, no wind, just wet.

Can you imagine forty days and nights?

What is gopher wood anyway?

And what is a cubit?

The sun is waiting,  like me

for a better day,

for a bluer sky,

fly away.

Herb Ratliff, January 27, 2012, All Rights Reserved

Gratitude

This picture is from 1993. Left to right back:Bud, me
Front: L to R:Julie, Lindsay, Dora holding Nick, Cory holding Lindsay.
There are now ten more grandchildren:Lindsey,Kirkland, Joshua, Skylar, Zachary, Logan, Keaton, Xander, Zoe, Brayden.

Have you ever thought carefully about the things you are most grateful for? 

I'm very visual and so my eyes are at the top of the list. Ears that function reasonably well, taste, touch, smell and a little esp now and again. I have enough athletic ability to engage in most sports and compete at a better than average level if I choose. I am teachable. That is what I may be most thankful for on another level. Second chances are high on the list too. If it weren't for second chances no one would ever see this blog. Good health, the ability to heal: physically, mentally and spiritually.

I've had numerous opportunities to apply my skills in a work environment that provided rich rewards. Sometimes I did it with a high level of competence and creativity and provided exceptional service to my employer and clients. Sometimes I did not and that's where some of those second chances I spoke of come into play.

I have met and been befriended by some of the finest people in the world. Many of them have taught me about life. All of them have given something special to me: their time, their experience, their forgiveness in some cases, their disdain in others. Most everything I have received has been as a direct result of my actions and attitude. I must add here that while complaining about results that were less than complimentary to me I was complaining to a friend about things not being "fair or just" and he looked me in the eye and said, "Herb, of all the people I know, you are the last who should be asking for justice. You should be praying for mercy." He was right and I hope I never forget it. I also hope I never forget there are a lot of people out there just like me.

Some parts of my life have been a train wreck. There just isn't any other way to express it. I have fallen hard and often on this journey but, I have never laid there and quit. I have hurt other people, sometimes on purpose, sometimes without intent and sometimes from just being too fixed on my own interests to care about anything else.

Most of my life has been a miracle. More good has come into my life from the generosity of others than I can begin to list. But I cannot continue without acknowledging the best part of my life, my children. They are smart, thoughtful, generous, forgiving. They are wonderful parents. They are dependable friends and they are good neighbors. I hope you get a chance to meet them someday.

Give some thought to making a list of your own. I think you will find that life is good, hope enriches it and experience can be the catalyst for change or plunging you deeper into the denial that life isn't fair. Thanks for stopping by, I'm grateful for you too.

Herb Ratliff, January 24, 2011, All Rights Reserved

What Color Are You?

So I wake up in the morning and the first thing I see is the red light. At least it isn't that really white, white, bright light that is like the search light at the airport, you know the kind they used during world war two when there were air raids and all of that noise. It's softer than that and thank goodness for that.
If it were that bright, I don't think I could function.

And it could be all blinky, blinky like some Christmas trees that are pre-packaged with lights.

It could have been green and you know, it's not easy being green. So, for that I am grateful too.

Orange, I don't think so. Orange, what like a Popsicle maybe? Nah, that just wouldn't work.

For a regal touch it might be purple, but Barney's purple and that's enough, don't you think?

Yellow? You mean like sunshine yellow? Whoever said that should be removed from the lighting board. That would make everything look jaundiced and ill.

Blue, the house of blue lights. That was a song wasn't it? Anyway blue is a nice color but it's kind of a sad color and all melancholy. I don't think that would be such a good thing. I'm not at all against melancholy, but not for all the time.

So what does that leave? We've done red, green, orange, purple, yellow, and  blue. It reminds me of the song, the rainbow song:

Red and yellow and pink and green,
Purple and orange and blue,
I can sing a rainbow, sing a rainbow
I can sing a rainbow too.

I remember that song from a movie called "Pete Kelly's Blues". It starred Jack Webb (the original Dragnet guy) and the female lead was Peggy Lee, a jazz singer. But I digress, we were talking about colors.

Anyway, I see red and that's OK with me. I like the red and you all recognize me because of it, so how bad can it be. The first thing I see in the morning is the very thing that makes me special so I think I will celebrate it.

Your friend,

Rudolph.