thoughts

Lest We Forget

/ dereid99 / Leave a comment

I woke up this morning, looked out the window to silence and cold. Where are the school buses and the people going to work? And then I slapped myself in the head. How could I?

 I pulled a cup of warm java to my lips and read about a dude getting gunned down in the street, “bullets riddled his back and he fell into the street.”  A little too harsh first thing in the morning, so let’s read something else.  I open my other book and was faced with a dude jumping off a cliff in alcohol induced frivolity. Divers found his body stuck in three feet of mud.  The idea of death brought me to  soldiers sitting in stinking,  wet and cold mud trenches. Then to other heroes blowing on their fingers to keep the cold off as they sat in a frozen fox hole surrounded by newly fallen snow. Warm fingers equal  warm triggers.  And the fear. Not knowing if today was your last day on earth.

The reading passages weren’t  a coincidence. Someone was knocking on my dull brain reminding me of the  many men  who died for our democracy, for our freedom. Deaths that allow me to sit in a comfortable chair, sip a warm beverage and read whatever I like.  I was walking with my niece  in the mall a few days ago. I bought a poppy from a vet and put money into his bucket. An action I should’ve done weeks ago.  As we walked away,  she asked, “Why did you give him money? It’s not like anyone cares.” Ok, so after the shock,  I picked my jaw up off the floor and said, “How’s your German? Because no victory in the war and you’re speaking German. And the colour of your eyes? Ah, the work camp for you.”

I’m also a bit worried because this year I kept forgetting. In the past, this memorable day was an occasion  – go to a service, walk around the row of crosses. (I just looked at my watch and missed the 11/11/11.  I’ll get the last 11 – 11 minutes. I stop.   A moment of silence, just in time.)  This year the occasion nearly slipped by. It took me a few minutes in this morning to remember it was Remembrance Day. It took me so long to get my poppy on, just a few days ago. In fact, yesterday, when I walked to my car I saw my poppy had fallen off. It lay in the snow almost buried. Again, not a coincidence.

Yes, I almost forgot it was Remembrance Day, leading me to another thought. My mother-in-law is ninety-three years old. She was a teenager during the Nazi occupation of Belgium. Using her age as a guide, how many World War Two vets are left?  With my blank out memory and my young niece’s who cares attitude, how long will it be before the Wars and the men who died for freedom are forgotten. It’ll be a very sad day when  “Lest we Forget” becomes a reality.

Sober thoughts

/ dereid99 / Leave a comment

Alcohol free zone - Stock Image - C008/3255 - Science Photo LibraryI don’t go to AA (alcoholics anonymous) although I have considered the option more than once. Who doesn’t during that morning after when your head feels like soccer ball batted around by Liverpool? I also think it’s a great organization that’s saved millions of lives. However, I do like to go “dry” several times a year. A plight that’s been particularly hard recently.

On a monthly dry surge, I ran into a few problems in places that sell alcohol. I get it. Restaurants and bars make a lot of money from booze and in these pandemic times, they need all the extra cash they can get. A reason why I always tip twenty-five percent. At least. (Even if I know my salad was just dragged across the floor.)

Recently, I went out for dinner at a popular pizza chain. A pleasant server came to the table and asked if anyone wanted something to drink. One person ordered a very over-priced glass of wine (I get it. Money. Pandemic.). Another asked for a something and coke. The daily special. Reasonable price if you don’t mind drinking alcohol, you could start your truck with. When it was my turn, I asked, “Do you have any alcohol-free beer?”  The poor server looked at me as thought I just got off the Martian shuttle. I ordered a diet soda.

The next night we went to a bar in the hotel where we were staying. This time I ordered a virgin Caesar – Clamato juice (Ok who came up with this? Some dude is sitting on a sunny patio, drinking tomato juice when an epiphany sounds, “You know what this drink needs? Clam juice.”), tabasco, spices and rimmed with salt.  The drink is also garnished with salad on a stick. This one, had a pickle, spicy green bean and celery. Now, the virgin, of course, means no vodka. With one of these sexless babies on the table you fly right under the sloppy, slurring radar, no one has a clue you’re sober.

However, my second drink was a bit of a scare. I ordered a soda with ice and lime. The thought here was a mock vodka and soda – the calorie conscious drink of the year. But the server brought the drink in a massive cup, super big gulp size. Not very inconspicuous. One look at this drink and, “Hey buddy maybe you need a meeting.”

Now, yea you’re right. I shouldn’t give a shit what other people think. And really, I don’t. But perhaps owners, bartenders and servers should have a bit of sensitivity. If a person orders a non-alcoholic drink. There’s a reason. Not only for health reasons, but the a sober person doesn’t want to be excluded from the excitement of vomiting, slurred words and a million “I love you, man.” Owners, managers, it’s not a big deal to have an alcohol free beer. Even Mexico has an NA beer. And that’s saying something.

NB: This Naked Mind is also a wonderful resource for quitting or slowing down alcohol use.

 

Side story

/ dereid99 / Leave a comment

Free picture: book, eyeglasses, geography, product ...So I’m reading this article and it’s about a women who spent time in Paris jotting down notes and observations about people who get on and off the bus – a woman runs to catch a bus and finally does at an intersection- Why was she late? Where was she going? What is her side story? Or about this guy who’s rapidly texting. Is he breaking up with someone or is he making dinner plans? We don’t know. We make side stories about our observations. Sometimes good. Sometimes naught.

A kid runs to catch a train in New York. He has a basketball under his arm and as he stands in the doorway, the door bops back and forth unable to close. The passengers look at the kid in anger. “Just let the fucking door close,” they say with darting, laser eyes. About thirty seconds later a woman hobbling with her cane comes up to the door and smiles at the boy. He lets her pass and then walks on the train. The door closes and the train moves on. Now without the side story – his grandmother, aunt or whomever with mobility problems perceive the kid as a nuisance. Without our sense of compassion, he’s just a little puke slowing the train down.

I was thinking on my run this morning, that before we make horrible judgments about people we should find out or at least consider what is causing people to react in certain ways. The homeless guy asking for change is not a drug addict or a thief who’s too lazy to get a job. Maybe he’s incapable of working because of a physical or mental disability. Maybe he‘s living on the streets even though he has a part time job because he can’t afford rent and the rules at the shelter do not coordinate with his job needs so he’s forced to live on the streets.

Just as this was passing through my endorphin riddled brain this morning,  I passed a guy, saying, “Good Morning,” as I do everyone. A little further on, my brain said, “You know this dude.” I’m sure I’ve see him before, but a long long time ago. The last time I saw him he wasn’t in good shape. He was suffering from a few rounds of cancer therapy. I did my turn and I was going to engage him on the way back. “Hey aren’t you that guy who had two large dogs? I haven’t seen you here for ages, literally years. You’re looking really good.” Yep I had the whole conversation mapped out in my head. By the time I made my way around the pond, he was gone. I lost a golden opportunity.

Now, I’m left to my imagination. Two years ago he flew down to Mexico and met up with a faith healer. The man was magical, sending his cancer into remission and the last few years he’s been working at his old job as dispatcher for a delivery company. He loves the work, but it’s very busy especially now as it’s leading up to Christmas. He has two children who live in the city and he sees them quite regularly. The dogs are fine but old and they don’t want to walk any more. Plus he’s getting to old to manage them on his walks.

Of course I made this up. I have no idea what his side story is, but rather than think negatively, I choose an optimistic side story. And like mama says, “If you haven’t got anything nice to say, shut the fuck up.” Mama has a way with words.