Father's Day...in the Living Years

For whatever reason, I've recently realized that the song The Living Years is just about as great a song about fatherhood as has ever been crafted.

 

For the record this does not remind me of my own father.  While I've written about my father in the past and am not really all that interested in revisiting things now, I'll simply state that my father was not in any measurable way a part of my life.  He was, in essence, a kind of "anti-example".  If anything, the lyrics of The Living Years make me think about my own legacy as a father, as well as others that I know who had fathers that were a part of their lives.

Here's the thing about legacies though: They are always written backward in time, likely in a time and place where the mortal coil will have ceased functioning.

I think the best fathers are very aware of the things they wished they had done differently, which seems to me to be the real message of the song The Living Years.  I know that there are things I wish I had done differently, but I also know that at any given moment in those past times, I was trying to do the best I could.  More than anything else, I tried to simply be present, unlike my own father.  I also hope that I have provided some sense of stability, of reasonability, of order of a sort in a world that I knew was becoming increasingly unstable, unreasonable and chaotic.  You just need to read the news to see this displayed in real time.

These days I live in what I've told Ms. Rivers is the paradox of conscious parenting: You prepare your sons and daughters to be independent and live out in the real world, making their own lives, which will often mean that you see them less.  While there have been things going on in my life that aren't necessarily very positive, words cannot express how very happy I was for my daughters to all be there when Ms. Rivers and I had an early anniversary get together a few weeks ago.  For about 2 hours when they were there, I was able to be immersed in the very best thing I have ever done as a human.

In the final analysis, I try to be a humble person, but when I think about how my children are doing, well, I have to give myself some extra grace in the pride department.  

So Happy Father's Day to all the dads that showed up, did their best, and have gotten the opportunity to look with pride upon their children, whether that view be from this world or the next.  

* * * * * *

The Living Years

(songwriters B.A.Roberston, Mike Rutherford)

Every generation

Blames the one before

And all of their frustrations

Come beating on your door

I know that I'm a prisoner

To all my Father held so dear

I know that I'm a hostage

To all his hopes and fears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Crumpled bits of paper

Filled with imperfect thought

Stilted conversations

I'm afraid that's all we've got

You say you just don't see it

He says it's perfect sense

You just can't get agreement

In this present tense

We all talk a different language

Talking in defence

Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye

So we open up a quarrel

Between the present and the past

We only sacrifice the future

It's the bitterness that lasts

So Don't yield to the fortunes

You sometimes see as fate

It may have a new perspective

On a different day

And if you don't give up, and don't give in

You may just be OK.

Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye

I wasn't there that morning

When my Father passed away

I didn't get to tell him

All the things I had to say

I think I caught his spirit

Later that same year

I'm sure I heard his echo

In my baby's new born tears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye

Let's Be Careful Out There

 

It think it is most definitely appropriate to begin this post about current events with a scene from one of my favorite television shows ever, Hill Street Blues.

In the case of this posting, it's not just the police I think should be careful out there, but everyone.  I speak of what's happening at this very moment in Los Angeles, California.  A few disjointed thoughts are in order.

We don't use the military against our own citizens in the United States.  If you are not from the U.S. this may not seem like much, but it is a very, very big deal.  And that line has been crossed with, as of this writing, the deployment of about 700 Marines in Los Angeles.

I grieve for the individuals living in fear of deportation.  It's a fabrication...a fiction of the highest order...that every immigrant in the U.S. who is not legally here is a criminal.  They are simply the target of a bigot, picked because, based on their status, they offer zero in the way of political resistance.  

I admire the protesters in Los Angeles.  Are there opportunists using this as an excuse to sow anarchy?  Sure.  Are the vast majority of those protesting upholding the best ideals we have...standing up for others, for their community...standing up to oppression?  Absolutely.  They are heroes.

Irony is dead in Washington D.C. among many Republicans.  You can't call what happened on January 6th a peaceful event on one hand and then condemn what is happening in Los Angeles on the other.  Yet many are, and it is beyond ironic.

We should hold the police, government agents and the military to the highest possible standards of conduct.  For example, United States Marines swear an oath to uphold the Constitution and follow orders...as long as those orders don't violate the Uniform Code of Military Justice.  No member of the military should be blindly following orders.  

Whether you’re talking about soldiers in the field or generals in the theater of battle, the general rule is service members have a duty to obey lawful orders. But there is also a duty to disobey manifestly unlawful orders—that is, orders that a person of ordinary sense and understanding would know to be unlawful.  [Citation HERE.]

I am sure there are individuals among the government agents, police, National Guard and Marines who are deeply troubled by what they are being asked to do.  Spoken far better than I...

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/14uCUYHkaA/

I fear this will get worse.  One need only remember what happened a few years ago...

https://www.npr.org/2022/05/09/1097517470/trump-esper-book-defense-secretary

...to fully grasp what could be happening.

Call me overly dramatic.  I don't care.  Ditto to charges of being "liberal" or many of its variations.  What is happening in our country is wrong.  We should not be the country of deporting children from schools.  We should not be a country of bullies.  We should not be the country where the military polices cities.  If you happen to believe otherwise, well that's your prerogative, and your soul.

Ad meliorem locum

There was no grand plan for my brother Joe's burial service to be on the same day as his birthday...it just worked out that way, which I was reminded of courtesy of my watch this morning.

Actually, the plan for Joe's service today was made last week, after consulting with a few different folks.  Somehow the birthday connection seems fitting.

For those that did not know my brother, he was the youngest of 4 (now 2) Albert Boys, all a year apart in age.  I'd like to think that we were all very different in many ways, but that was especially true for Joe.  Avoiding any long screeds about life growing up, I will instead note that we didn't have a particularly nurturing home environment, and while I know Joe was taken care of to a greater degree by our mother early on, as they both grew older, well, it became more difficult for Joe.  This is because each of us, except Joe, found a way to escape our upbringing in some way.  After high school graduation, Rich went headlong into work/school, I went to school for the next 4 years, and Chris went into the Navy.  Joe remained.

In one respect (pretty much only), my younger brother's disability was probably a blessing in the sense that he didn't process our world growing up in the same way that his brothers did, and in the ways that caused us to plot our escapes.  

Speaking of disability, Joe didn't see himself that way.  I know he was aware of being different, but that wasn't a major part of what shaped his life from his perspective.  Just like everyone else, I think he just was trying his best, getting up each day, and doing his thing.  An increasingly complex world meant that some things raced past him, including a working environment that required a use of technology that became beyond his own capabilities.  He didn't bemoan this fact by the way, but in typical Joe fashion, he just accepted it.  This is something that I would be incapable of doing myself.  I will note that Joe worked full time until he was nearly 50 years old.  As indicated above, Joe had the ability to show up, which is not something that everyone has in this day and age.

Speaking of support, our mother never sought out any additional support for Joe growing up, for reasons that died with her more than a decade ago.  The Scranton School District though was very supportive of him.  The bashers of public education seem chronically unable to acknowledge the fact that public schools take those students that private schools would never have in the first place, and in Joe's case, provide him with a valuable education. While schools like to point with pride to the high, mighty and credentialed as examples of their success, I offer the fact that my brother is a different kind of success story...but a success story nevertheless.

I know that the time Joe spent with our mother in the years before she passed away were difficult for him, as our mother was not an easy person to be around.  But yet Joe almost never complained, even though he certainly had the cause to do so.  After our mother's passing, myself, Rich and Chris decided that it was time for Joe to begin to receive some of the services for which he was entitled.  Credit goes to my brother Rich for the heavy lifting associated with getting Joe the financial support he needed to live independently.  My role was to make sure that he did not outlive his financial resources and that, to the greatest extent possible, he was protected from the many ways modern life has of separating the unwitting from their money.

There were, by the way, many ways in which attempts were made to take advantage of Joe over the years.  None of us can make someone else live in a bubble, and in trying to give Joe an independent life, there were bound to be instances where he was taken advantage of.  But there were countless examples also where, between Rich and me, bad things were prevented.  

If you didn't know my brother (and there were many in the Scranton, PA area that did), he was something of an open book...what you see is what you got.  He was friendly towards others, especially back in the days when he worked at the Mall at Steamtown, and his height (6'5") combined with red hair made him stand out in a crowd.  By the way, Joe's standard line when I introduced him to others was "I am his little brother, but I am taller than him" (or words to that effect).  Admittedly, this could be a bit annoying, but I take some solace in the facts that:

A) It was factually correct

B) Making fun of your brother is what brothers have done for as long as there have been brothers

Now I am left being the tallest Albert brother.  It's not much of a consolation prize, thank you very much.  Speaking of fitting in, his remains are now resting close to that of his mother, father and brother Chris.

(Band of Brothers:  Chris, Joe, Steve and Rich)

So, what's left?  Well, there is lawyer stuff and assorted other things to do, which I will be working on over the weeks and months to come. His apartment has been cleared out, thanks to a ton of work by Rich (and I provided an assist), and the local Goodwill now has a large selection of firefighter tee shirts for sale from which the residents of the greater Scranton area can browse.  There were also a decade's worth of cargo pants which I bought for him every Christmas that were lightly used (in later years, Joe's decided preference was sweatpants).  Some Scranton-area thrift shoppers looking for size 42x32 pants may be in luck as well.  It's odd to think about his clothes at a time like this, but if you knew Joe, you knew how seriously he took firefighter stuff, so that fact that his collections of very lightly used and dozens of firefighter-themed shirts will live to see other torsos in the future is oddly comforting.

Time will also march on, and for Joe, that will be to a better place (hence the title...with apologies for any Latin grammatical errors on my part).  I am served with yet another reminder that life has a way of changing in ways that can be expected but not necessarily timely.  Speaking of time, I am hoping to have much more of it on this Earth, where I will do my best to be the better person Joe probably thought I was*.

No one else is allowed to die for a while now.  Okay?

(*) Just kidding.  I think he mostly thought I was a pain in the a$$, which I was, but that was part of what I did to help take care of him.

OLD

Preface...I started and (mostly) finished this before the passing of my brother Joe.  I have more thoughts on that (my brother's passing), which may get into another posting eventually.  But for now, a few thoughts on the subject of getting older.

 

Yes, another year and I am officially older now.  No sense throwing out statistics, but let’s just say I am old enough to be considered grown up, although I don’t always think of myself that way.  My body sometimes takes offense to that second part, and routinely reminds me of such, but that sort of thing happens to all of us.  Yes, age truly is the great equalizer.  Body part showing signs of wear and tear duly noted, I have a lot to be thankful for as I jet past this life anniversary:

 I have daughters and stepsons who are healthy, very smart and doing well.

I have a wife who is my favorite non-cat and who tolerates my (many) idiosyncrasies.

I continue to have dual gifts of curiosity and persistency.

 I can still hear the birds, smell the flowers, feel soft cat snuggles, and taste good pizza.

This is not to say that all is well and perfect, because it ain’t.  As alluded to above, I need to take better care of myself physically, which I know is intrinsically linked to my own mental health.  Speaking of mental health, I am also blessed that, in spite of many reasons to the contrary sometimes, I still wake up each day thinking about the things I want…and often have…to do, without it being overwhelming.  In fact, I will say that getting older has been decidedly better for my mental health, as I often now days find myself asking “why should I even care about this?” frequently.  This is a very good thing, by the way.

As a side note, if there is one self-help book everyone should read, it’s this one:

 
(you can find it HERE on Amazon)

When I think about what has informed my outlook on things over the last few years, I have to acknowledge how important this book has been.

Back to being older.

Ms. Rivers asked me if I had any ruminations about starting the first full decade of my 60's.  Well, here we go:

Whether we want to admit it or not, we never really escape our childhood

The older I get the more I find depth in simplicity

Comfort > Fashion

Life does not happen in a linear progression

Most dogs are better than most people...which is why I don't own a dog

This is Water should be required reading for everyone

Anger is the ultimate waste of time and energy

Ponder this:  John Lennon was 25 years old when he wrote "Nowhere Man"; by that measure we are all abject failures

It's okay to have regrets; it's just not okay to live a life centered around them

The older I get the better I am at managing pain (of all kinds)

What most folks get wrong about Star Trek?  The Enterprise is as much a character in the show as Kirk or Spock (which is what the newer movies get wrong)

Cats are necessary because they remind us that we are not the center of the universe...they are

You only truly miss a sibling when they pass away

The only people who say "I never use Algebra as an adult" are those who really didn't pay all that much attention in Algebra class

The older I get the more I am okay with not knowing everything...and that's a long list

The chorus in the song #9 Dream (“Ah! böwakawa poussé, poussé”) doesn't mean anything...and yet it is perfect for the task; the lesson?  Not everything has to mean something

The Great Gatsby still sucks

"Love makes your heart pound!", yeah, well often true love is the most calm thing you can feel

Smell the flowers

Anyone can sing or write or dance...it's just that not everyone can do one or all of those things well

There's nothing more stupid and pathetic than someone who mistakes cruelty for genius

My life has been fine without Brocolli

Don't buy cheap shoes

Do buy cheap tools...until you have the money to buy good ones

Truly smart people don't have to remind you of how smart (they think) they are

It's impossible to overrate the importance of smelling good

Being confident is far less important than seeming like you are confident

Playing a musical instrument is a super-power

Beavis > Butthead

There are only two kinds of pick-up trucks:  Those for work and those for show; I don't trust people who owns one just for show

Someone's right to get high or drunk (or other such things) ends at the tip of their nose and does not extend to forcing me to involunintarily participate in their stupidity

Never, ever underestimate the importance of good dental hygiene 

In business, the order is "ready-aim-fire" (not "ready-fire-aim")

There's really no such thing about chaos...there's a pattern to everything, as long as you have a large enough population and the time to analyze it all

A hot shower cures many ills

Plants remind us that there is a season for everything

It's perfectly okay to like Supertramp and Ramstein and Strauss

John Mellencamp is right:  An honest man's pillow IS his peace of mind

Mission accomplished.  Back to getting older.

There is work yet to be done.

I am inching towards retirement one of these years.  Maybe sooner rather than later.  We shall see.  Part of what goes with this is the very real question of just what the heck would I do with myself when I do retire?  I have thoughts, but I acknowledge that I need to think about this more over this next life cycle.  Having things like that to think about is a good thing.

I also need to work on my people-ing skills.  The odd part of this is the fact that I’m better at that sort of thing when I am being paid for it (a.k.a., at work) but pretty terrible at it otherwise.  Part of me wonders if I have this notional human interaction bank that currently gets mostly drained at work, leaving not much left for my civilian life.  It’s an interesting theory.

All of the above noted, it’s time to begin the next rotation around the sun.

More to come.