Last week, Muri and I traveled to Florida to spend the week on Siesta Key with our good friends, Britta and Barney. Let me say at this point that Britta has no use for social media, not even high class literary social media like Older Eyes- Bud’s Blog. Hence, in the interest of preserving a very long friendship, Britta is a pseudonym, as is Barney. They had rented a small cottage near the beach and invited us to join them and their two dogs, Keppah and Kishka. Also pseudonyms. Kishka isn’t fond of social media either. Because Britta and Barney live on the East Coast (in an undisclosed location), we see them only occasionally. (more…)
Posted tagged ‘friends’
Last week, I was working in the park, as I often do when I want to especially enjoy the benefits of being self-employed. There is a picnic bench right next to the lake under the shade of a spruce tree that makes a delightful office. I was getting my laptop out of its travel bag when a card fell out of the side compartment onto the table. As soon as I noticed the two kittens climbing a Christmas tree on the front, I knew what it was … it was a Christmas card from my friend, Stan, from the winter before he passed away from pneumonia. I opened it and read: (more…)
I am an introspective sort of old guy. Being old … seventy-two, to be specific … is an advantage for an introspective man, providing lots of life to introspect (no, it’s not a word … consider it senior literary license). I am also a lucky man. As I move inexorably into my seventies, I am, as they say, comfortable in my own skin. No, I am not quite perfect … defects of character and irrational prejudices still haunt me … but for the most part, I manage not to act on them. Mistakes? Yes, Frank Sinatra, I’ve made a few but I’ve tried to learn from each of them and I think I am a better person for the effort. Pardon me if I pat my own back and say I have an examined life, which, according to Socrates, makes life worth living. These days, I find myself looking back over the years not in judgement but in curiosity, trying to understand what made me turn out as I am. So let me ask you this. Have you ever asked yourself, What was was the most significant year in determining who you are? (more…)
Friday afternoon, I drove to Arrowhead Ranch, a camp and retreat center in Lake Arrowhead, for a retreat with a group of about 40 men from my Thursday Night Men’s Meetings. That is my official … if not totally genuine … reason for not posting since last Wednesday. The truth is, nothing inspired me to write. Yes, Jack London said, You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club, but since writing is my avocation not my vocation (avocation sounds so much more grown-up than hobby, doesn’t it?), sometimes I choose to just wait. Or retreat, in this case. But here I am, back again. Did you miss me?
For quite a few years, I’ve attended a fall and spring retreat with my Thursday Night Men’s Group … and posted about it here on Older Eyes, Bud’s Blog. This year, for an assortment of reasons that shall remain private, I decided not to go. I told my wife Muri that we should go away for the weekend and have our own retreat. A week ago, I was checking for availability at the Blue Lantern Inn in Dana Point and found that their Tower Room was available as a last minute special … half price … for the weekend of the eighth, so I reserved it for Friday and Saturday night. The Tower Room is on the third floor, overlooking the marina and Dana Point Harbor, one of my favorite coastline views. Saturday, we had breakfast in or room while we watched a paddle board competition on the beach below. Our friend Jackie from Solana Beach came by around noon and we spent the afternoon talking in our room, then went to dinner at a local fish house. (more…)
I posted this about three years ago. My wife, Muri and I were talking to a realtor and she suddenly started talking about Lance Armstrong. It mystified me until Muri pointed to my Yellow Bracelet, which I have worn for so long, I forget it’s there. This is the (slightly updated … updates in red) post.
For about eight years, I’ve worn a yellow plastic bracelet on my right wrist, day and night. You’ve probably seen them around. They have the word LiveStrong embossed on one side. Of course, they are a signature of The Lance Armstrong Foundation, which is the largest athlete charity in history, raising $470M since 1997 to fight cancer. I started wearing the bracelet when my friend John was fighting cancer, a battle he lost. I’ve worn it through Muri’s semiannual mammograms and the sometimes sonograms when something showed up, all false alarms, thank God. I wore it while my sister-in-law lost her battle and now while my friend, Bill, is fighting his. It represents my support of charities fighting cancer and my support of anyone dealing with the disease. It was also a favorite plaything of my favorite cat ever, Mr. P, who disappeared this year. It’s not about Lance Armstrong. (more…)
There was one day last week that didn’t go so well. There were no tragedies, no calamities, no tears. There were difficult issues to deal with and people … for some strange reason … did not line up to do what I wanted them to do. Go figure. By the end of the day, I needed an enclave so I drove … alone … to the park. It had rained most of the day and was still drizzling as I pulled up to the parking lot by the lake. Creativity general is a balm for my soul, so I took a picture of the lake shrouded in the leftover clouds of a Socal storm and posted it. Here it is again.
About 40 minutes later, I was treated to this: