I am back after a long hiatus.  I think that instead of grieving over the things that have been taken from me, it would be better that I share these thoughts with you, my friends.

You see, I did what many of us do.  Instead of coming to this forum for relief, I hid myself away with all of my imagined bugaboos.

But enough. 

My company was acquired by another bigger fish.  Do I have a job?  Am I the same person?  Should I be?  Should I change to conform to the new culture?  Is this selling out?  Does it matter?

These are the kinds of questions that we often wrestle with as we sort out the important things of life.

I am confounded when asked to select a category from the little box above.  I am not sure if I am really a category type of guy.  More of a stream of consciousness person I think.

Grieving takes a long time.  Does it ever end?  It's been almost three years since I lost my Father, four since my Mother left the planet.  Were they ever here?  Were they real?  I am not sure.  It is strange how time creates such a distance between the things that were sure in your life but that are gone now. 

How was I supposed to know that I was partially defined by the existence of my father and mother who I knew shared this planet with me a few hundred miles away in Northern California.

I am back now.  My parents are gone.  But I am sharing the planet with you now, gentle reader and you define me as well.  And I am comforted by that.

Verne

Robert Davis, the school teacher who was beaten recently by New Orleans thug-cops is 64 years old.  As I am also 64 years old, this story was of interest to me.

Davis insisted this morning on  CBS news that this wasn't about race.  I agree with him.  I think it was more about age as reflected by the demonstrated  disdain that today's society displays towards anyone of average means over 50.

Davis, a lifelong educator, was attacked and beaten by one of the thug cops because he dared to  correct that young man's despicable manners.  The cop attacked Davis from behind while uttering the threat "I am going to kick your ass", and it took it took 6 or 7 of them to wrestle this grandfatherly man to the ground.  Wisely, Davis folded up and didn't resist; just took his beating.  I would have done the same.

No it wasn't about race.  One of the new underclasses in this age of young pretty people on TV is the over 50 class, euphamistically referred to as the "Seniors".  As the mass marketers will tell you we all go on cruises, gobble iron pills, listen to music that our parents listened to,  walk around with silly looks on our faces and ride around on scooters.  It's time to shut down the stereotype factory and get it right for a change.  My age group came from the turbulent 60's not the timid 50's. We know how to fight back and age-ism will be our newest target.  You can take that to the bank.
The case of Robert Davis is extreme, but most of us in my age group experience the sly jokes at work and are the butt of many of the stereotypes that younger apply to their "Seniors".  I am an experienced, quick driver with better than a million miles of Los Angeles, California  driving under my belt.  I don't fool around in traffic but move safely and efficiently to my destination.  Yet I have noticed that in the last few years being cut off more, horns honked more, middle fingers raised more towards me than in my younger years.  My wife is partially disabled and as such merits a Handicapped Placard.  I learned quickly that displaying  that placard while driving elicits the worst tailgating, and other rude driving behaviors imaginable.  I am careful to remove that placard when my wife is not present in the car, so not to be readily identified as one of the doddering aged ones who invariably clog up our freeways

I am genetically blessed.  My hair hasn't gone totally grey yet, and I have few facial wrinkles so most people mistake me for a younger man.  Then they ask my age and from the reaction I read in their faces and from the lame remarks you would have thought that I just admitted to being an gay-athiest, and here in Salt Lake that would be quite an admission.

I wish Robert Davis the best of luck as he brings these so called servants of the people to account for their boorish and criminal behavior.  Maybe this will send a message that Americans come in all ages and sizes and that we all have the right to be treated with respect especially by those who have hired out to protect and serve.  Where is the AARP now?

Da Bear

It's already the 10th of the month and no entries.  Procrastination paves the way to hell.  No.  Good intentions do that.  I don't know what procrastination does except get bill collectors after you. 

I am such a noted procrastinator that my late father took the time and trouble to cut a disc out of wood, paint it white and emblazon in black letters the word "TU-IT" and give it to me.  He thought it was a great yuk.  I didn't.  Then he said I didn't get the joke.  I got it.  My father was a type A all of his life complete with control issues, judgemental attitudes and heart bypass operations.

Sometimes procrastination is the subconscious' way of saying "Go slow here".  Uncharted waters.  I have avoided some real mistakes that way.  Yes, I have also missed opportunities and some important deadlines.  But that is who I am.

I drive the do it now set absolutely bonkers.

But I am recovering. 

Da Bear