Election 2016

I am going to go out on a limb and make a Presidential Election prediction prior to the actual election. This is taking a risk, of course, that I will be publicly wrong.  Which is no big deal for anyone but myself. I'm sure you can find other wrongs on this blog.

Anyway, I am predicting Hillary to come out on top. It is true that I voted for her, so picking her as the winner is not that much of a stretch. I mean, why would I vote for someone who I don't think can win?  However, it you consider my history for voting....I can't remember the last time I voted for the winner in a Presidential Election. My track record is dismal.

But so it goes, 2016. Let's see if I can line up right this time. Hillary in a landslide. The Senate and the House stay the same.

Another Hitchhiking Post

I am thinking it was early 80's, and the purpose of the ride was to get home from school. I was going to Phoenix College ...and finances being what they were...I had no personal transportation. It was the public transit bus, or hitchhike.

Home was my brother's house at the time. On this particular day I was thumbing it.

A middle aged lady picked me up in an aging convertible, and agreed to take me all the way home.  Fine. I did not get many of those door to door excursions.  The lady looked somewhat disheveled, and had a cough and a bit of a runny nose. But a ride is a ride.

Soon, as we traversed the city, I learned there was a catch. The lady herself was homeless, and asked if I could spot her some cash.

Fine.  I was sooooo naive at the time, and somewhat tender-hearted, so I said 'ok'.  Only, see...I mentioned finances being what they were...I had no cash. None.

I had a few bucks in checking, so I told her I would need to run in and write her a check. And she took me up on it.

So, as we pulled up in front of my brother's house, I ran in and got my checkbook. I wrote her a check for $15.00.

Only....

I soon found out that the $15.00 was sufficient funding for me to qualify for certain carnal benefits. I had accumulated sufficient credit to supplement the ride.  Or to say, there are different types of rides.

OK, so technically speaking, I had just paid for services, in advance. Unbeknownst. I mentioned to you , the reader, that I was naive. I also mentioned to you something about the runny nose and the cough.

To some degree of disappointment for my benefactor, further services were declined.

Thus ends the story of the first and only time I ever 'paid' for it.

Cheers...nca

Eres Huérfano

"He mounted up and road out down the little dusty street. Nodding to those he passed along his way. Riding like a young squire for all his rags. Carrying in his belly the gift of the meal he'd received

which both sustained him and laid claim upon him.  For the sharing of bread is not such a simple thing, nor is it's acknowledgement."  

Cormac McCarthy, The Crossing

Yes, I went back to the well and pulled a second quote, back to back:post to post, from the same book.  It's not too surprising really, because the McCarthy themes in this book parallel the brief period in my youth where I hitchhiked cross country and internationally several times. Whereas I went to that great country to the north, the hero in the book (Billy Parham) traveled thrice to the country south of here.  

Whereas Billy Parham was soon to be an orphan, I was very much like an orphan, culled out from the family herd as I was. Moving forward to the now, I truly have become an orphan. And, like Billy, I have always had the heart of a nomad.

The quote above hit me like a hammer.  I often thought a lot about the people who sustained me along the way on my journeys. Metaphor intended. 

What 'claim' did those whom picked me up, or fed me bread, lay upon me? Certainly now, 35 years later these benefactors are much more vivid in my memories than I am in theirs. For surely, now at this point in my life they can stake no other claim save that claim upon me than that which I allow.

To tell one story of my journeys my companion and I were picked up by some girls in western Canada. They drove a truck pulling an empty U-Haul. They allowed for us to ride in the U-Haul, a safer proposition then having us ride in the cab with them. They were both attractive. They took us on one of the longest single lifts we were to receive on that trip....almost 500 miles with us. When they got to their destination, their home, they allowed for us to stay in the U-Haul for the night, and they left us and went into their house. Some time later, their parents came out and asked us to come in for showers, shelter, and dinner. The girls were resting from the long drive. When the girls woke up and came down, the two of us were showered, fed, and enjoying talk and drinks with their parents. The girls were surprised to see us, maybe a little annoyed.

Nomadic strangers intruding on their lives for a brief moment in time. Providing shelter, sustenance, and washing the soil from our skin and clothes.  Our appreciation was measured by the degree of our sincerity as we thanked them when we resumed our trek.  Was our gratitude felt to be enough as we disappeared from their life? Were the warm fuzzies they received as benefactors sufficient for them to offer further sustenance to future travelers...or had we exhausted their good will. Who knows? Not me for that was the only moment here on earth in which our paths crossed.

We collected the signatures of all those who harbored us or proffered transport. Etched in our Rand McNally are all those who crossed our path with open arms. A register of good hearts, those willing to open a door and allow strangers repast. But for those two strangers, our journey would have been thwarted but not ended. If not them, someone else would have stepped in and their names would now have been entered in the atlas. For this continent is filled with good hearts, with those willing to step out of their shadows and act on inherent internal prompts toward kindness. 

My companion and I, too, were like 'young squires' for all our rags. It certainly was not our attire, nor our cleanliness that attracted acts of kindness. Even the passage of years filtering my memories  won't suppress my awareness that the two of us must have been an assault on all senses as dusty, unshaven/un-showered vagrants.  Perhaps our youth contributed to the tug at the stranger's kind hearts, or some other prompting  touched that place in the heart where acts of kindness are conceived. 

The memories of those motives are long gone. I could only guess. Or those whom provided aid to strangers could comment below if they so choose. But as for me, I am truly grateful for all who crossed my path and proffered kindness. If I could list you all here, like names on the RAND-MAC, I would. My appreciation is not a simple thing, nor simply stated.  As the charater 'Billy Parham' actually did in the book, I would write it out in flour upon the stove top for all to see. So I write it here. If sometime in 1980, or 1981 you stopped and offered a lift or a bite to eat to two wayward strangers, let it be known that we both are well, that through your help and the help of hundreds of others the two of us did safely reach our destination. And rest assured that your kindness registers, is remembered and is truly appreciated.

Cheers, nca

El Caminante

While listening to the Audio Book for "The Crossing" I came across this passage:

"You will see. It is difficult for brothers to travel together on such a voyage. The road has its own reasons and no two travelers will have the same understanding of those reasons. If indeed they come to an understanding of them at all. Listen to the corridos of the country. They will tell you. Then you will see in your own life what is the cost of things. Perhaps it is true that nothing is hidden. Yet many do not wish to see what lies before them in plain sight. You will see. The shape of the road is the road. There is not some other road that wears the shape but only one.  And every voyage begun upon it will be completed. Whether horses are found or not. "
Cormac McCarthy "The Crossing"

It made me contemplate again the hitch-hike trips in the early 80's with my friend Neville.  In the book the missing horses had been stolen by Mexican road agents, along with murdering the hero's parents. The two brothers in the story set out on a journey to recover the horses, and discover much more.

What did the two of us set out on our journey for?  I imagine, as in the quote above our understanding of the journey may have been much different from each other. I can guess Neville's reasons, but it would only be a poor guess.  And the reasons we may have had back then may not match our understandings now, 35 years later.

Our memories, when we have compared notes, are even different. Not different realities, but just different items of emphasis. Our memories supplement each other. Our vantage points allowed us to have different views of the same events, and sometimes different views all together. Our 'corridos', are like a harmony, each of us singing different parts.

So too, our growth and development, our 'take away' from our journeys too may have affected us differently. What changed me from our journeys may well not be what changed in my companion.

"The shape of the road is the road". 

Yes, the road was all things. The road was the challenge, the obstacle to overcome. The road was the vantage point, it was upon the road that our adventure was settled. Upon the road we experienced Alaska, Canada, and much of the United States.  The road was the table we set upon to break bread with strangers. The road was the gift. The road was the vision. The road was common to our understanding, our voice, our shared ideal, perhaps again not common at all.  The road changed us both, and yet we did not change the road at all, it continues on now unblemished from our passing.

I am truly grateful to have shared this journey with my friend Neville. I don't yet look back at those times as my pinnacle, my zenith. Not all journeys since then have gone down hill to demise. But for those great memories, I toast Neville, I toast the road, and I toast what roads we travel on in the future.

Cheers, nca

Numb Reactions

At the funeral for my father, the 4 of us brothers were designated to sit on the front left row of the church.  My father's 3 brothers were designated to sit on the right front row. The rest of the family, including my Sisters, and the families, were behind us. Only my father and the priest and altar boys were before us. I suppose the purpose of this may have been that we would all be pall bearers, and therefore the front rows were the logical place.

I don't suppose logic is a big part of funerals. Not for me anyway.

My wife and my daughters were in the row directly behind us brothers. I felt alone and miserable, sad and emotional.  I needed my own family, my wife and daughters to prop me up and support me. So, I left my brothers isolated and alone on that front row and went back to sit with my own family.

Heartbroken, bereft, my tears flowed freely. I could not fathom my father was gone. My middle daughter put her arms around me and propped me up, supported me. I was a mess, and she knew exactly what to do and say to support me. My wife and my other daughters were there too, and so it was. At a time I was most alone in the world, I was not alone at all, and those 4 people I most value in the world were there behaving exactly as I needed them to.  My brothers, on the row in front of me, had to face these moments of grief alone, and find their comfort with family and friends later. I knew I needed it right then and there, as the pain was too much for me to bear alone.

In another day and time, many years later....with my wife suffering the most fell blow she has ever taken, something similar happened.  It was a few days after my mother-in-law died, and we were having an estate sale for wife's family. My wife was distraught, brokenhearted, and suffering greatly.  Cars were parking in front of my mother-in-laws house to come walk through the estate sale.  Some neighbors, from several doors down, knocked on the door and informed us that the cars were parking in front of their house and they needed to be moved. Terrible, hurtful timing.  The same daughter, my second, took the neighbors outside and proceeded to lambaste them greatly. She informed them that the house was suffering a great lost, that the family was in great mourning, and that they need to chill. She was forceful, a bit scary even. The neighbors, properly redressed, left and bothered us no more.

Two incidents, one daughter.  She had acted decisively and forcefully both times. She had been led by her heart, by the spirit, and by her own instincts and had acted appropriately.  I could not have been more proud as I was of that daughter during those moments. Either of my other two daughters have those same inbred instincts, as does my dear wife. They always seem to know the right thing to say or do, at the right moment, at all times.

I bring this up because, I fear, that my instincts are nowhere near as honed as should be.  At times like this, where decisive, proactive, immediate action is needed, I am not sure I can so easily chose the right reaction.  I have long known that I have internal governors and filters that slow my response and dull my instincts.  I carry with me a serene calmness and numbness that prevents me from the kind of quick response my daughter displayed. Where decisiveness is needed I sometimes hang back too much. Where instincts need acted upon, I allow complacency to reign.  

Most of the faculties we call instincts  are there with us from the day we are born. Some are honed and heightened over time with training and practice.  But most of those instincts are there all ready to use the day we are born unto this world.  Through the Spirit of God we can also receive promptings to act upon if we are attuned with the Spirit. That is a Gift we all can wield.  But my fear is that my internal filters and governors are getting in the way of my natural instincts and my communications with the Spirit. I want to battle my tendency to 'under react', but I have a long hill to crime. 

I am not one to lament my youth, my youth was my youth for better or worse.  There were many blessings, some that still reward me to this very day, derived from my youth. However, I know that the nature of my youth contributes to my internal numbness. If there was one thing I would change about my youth, it would be that.  I'd like to see myself loose the shackles of inner indecision that prevent myself from being fully human. In so doing, to be a better husband, father, and citizen of the world.

I have a bit of work to do.

Cheers, nca

Seeking Captions

Feel Free To Provide Your Own Caption

The White Barn

I was teasing my daughter about a potential babysitting job the other day; I proceeded to name off several famous babysitters.  The ones I mentioned were

• Zazu From Lion King
• Mary Poppins
• Fraulein Maria, from Sound of Music.
• Hagrid, from the 'Harry Potter' series.
• Uncle Buck, from the Movie Uncle Buck
• Charlotte, from 'Charlotte's Web'.

Thinking about that list, most of these babysitters had a few bumps on the road during their babysitting tenure. Hagrid dumped Harry from his Motorcycle, gave Harry's brother a tail, and left children, his charges, threatened by numerous dangerous creatures. Fraulein Maria ignored the wishes of the parents, as did Mary Poppins. Zazu had no control over his charges at all.  Uncle Buck had all sorts of issues. 

But, what about Charlotte?  Was she truly caring for Wilbur as she 'appeared' to save his life? Did she spend her final months sacrificing all so Wilbur could avoid the butcher's cleaver? Were the life's lessons she taught truly all in the interest of Wilbur?

Think about it, she admits that her offspring, millions of spiders let lose in the barn, were her 'Magnus Opus'.  What does 'Magnus Opus' even stand for?  Her greatest work, her ultimate achievement. So, she admits that Wilbur was not even really central to her thoughts.  So, why focus all her time on saving Wilbur from becoming a Pork Chop?

Pigs crap. A lot of very undesirable poop, and quite smelly. Who loves crap, why flies do. Don't spiders eat flies? 

As Charlotte explains 'A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies." Charlotte's efforts to save Wilbur has long lasting benefits for her ultimate achievement, her own offspring. Sure, Wilbur will be forever protected from the cleaver, Therefore, Fern and her family will be saddled with the crap slinging prize pig living out in the barn for years. Wilbur laying around crapping in their barn and eating slop all day, virtually with no great purpose in his life except to sleep, eat and poop. Meanwhile, the barn will be filled with flies to last a lifetime for Charlotte's children.

We should contemplate the condition of Fern and her family. They will have a stinky, smelly barn for as long as Wilbur lives. The barn will be covered with webs and infested by spiders and flies. One can only lament their future.

This may be something to contemplate as we ponder the upcoming election. As we look at the current Presidential candidates, are we going to elect a stinky pig based off of some clever one line phrases thrown around here and there with no real substance? Can you truly gussy up a pig with one-liners?  Do we have to live in a stinky barn for the next 4 years because of some cleverly placed words and the dirty rotten rats and fanged spiders whom support him?

Cheers, nca

Will the Good Lord Carry Open or Conceal

The question here is whether the Lord, upon his triumphant return, will be Open Carry or Conceal Carry. In my mind, there could be no other possible options; it must be one or the other. In assuming his return targets these United States as worthy lands to tender his Reign, the choices must be considered. The odd coupling of the zealot religious right and the zealous NRA supporters would certainly not allow there to be another choice than for the Lord to be pro-gun. The Right has demonstrated their stranglehold on Righteousness, there can be no other view. Therefore, I ask the question sincerely, would the Lord Carry Open, or Conceal?

There is some expectation that America will be one site of this celestial return to Terra Firma. At least He would be expected to set foot on US Soil at some point to assume control of the Government. As one of the World’s Super Powers, certainly it would be on his checklist for celestial conquest. To control the country the One would need to establish reigning control of the Constitution.

Ah, the Constitution! It is by the Constitution that we as citizens defend our right to bear arms. It is written there, plain and simple. "A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed." 

How much the Lord is bound by this Constitution will be up for debate. Several key stipulations will require amending if one is to Reign over the land for 1000 years. The twenty second amendment sets a term limit of 2 terms for President. That would certainly have to be adjusted, amended. 

Section 1 Article 2 states “No Person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any Person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty-five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States. There are several Constitutional issues in jeopardy here; primarily He must be ‘natural born’, and a ‘Citizen of the United States’.  Certainly records indicate that his birth may have touched the boundaries of ‘Natural’ , and his citizenship would have been originally recorded on a Roman Census, as a Hebrew resident of a Judean state not destined to be part of these United States.

I am not sure it would be for the Office of President he would seek, but as of today the office of King of Kings is not provided for in the Constitution. There are enough restrictions in the current Constitution to assume that a reigning Lord would need to throw aside much of the Constitution, usurp it, in order to set the wheels in motion to establish his 1,000 year reign. Retaining the Right to Bear Arms through a dismantled Constitution could be a challenging endeavor. But as voiced by the Right, "I'll give you my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead hands".  It is likely the most secure portion of the Constitution to be retained in a post return America would be the Right to bare Arms. It is certainly the most protected and revered.

One must assume that the Religious Right, united with their NRA brothers will make up the main body of this righteously endowed America. The Righteous Army in place to secure the land is most likely to come from this population. Certainly, the oddballs of the extreme right will be properly relieved of Power; after all you can’t have Nazi Skinheads in the Grand Army of the Righteous.  That would certainly be a conflict of Interest for a King of Jewish descent.  But still, taking the wackos out of the question you are still left with the ‘moral majority’, this odd mixture of Christian and gun carrying conservatives.  One must assume that there is no place for the Left in this theocratic monarchy.

Therefore, the question is repeated, would the Good Lord advocate for conceal or open carry?

To start the debate for the Conceal side, I came up with these quotes:

It is the glory of God to conceal a thing: but the honour of kings is to search out a matter.  Proverbs 25:2.

In His right hand He held seven stars, and out of His mouth came a sharp two-edged sword; and His face was like the sun shining in its strength. Revelations 1:16

When you go out to battle against your enemies and see horses and chariots and people more numerous than you, do not be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, who brought you up from the land of Egypt, is with you. Deuteronomy 20:1

Then David said to the Philistine, "You come to me with a sword, a spear, and a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the LORD of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have taunted. "This day the LORD will deliver you up into my hands, and I will strike you down and remove your head from you. And I will give the dead bodies of the army of the Philistines this day to the birds of the sky and the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, and that all this assembly may know that the LORD does not deliver by sword or by spear; for the battle is the LORD'S and He will give you into our hands." 1 Samuel 17:45-47

On the Open Carry side we have these Biblical Quotes:

Hebrews 4:13 - And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do.

Therefore do not go on passing judgment before the time, but wait until the Lord comes who will both bring to light the things hidden in the darkness and disclose the motives of men's hearts; and then each man's praise will come to him from God. 

1 Corinthians 4:5

The sons of Israel did things secretly which were not right against the LORD their God. Moreover, they built for themselves high places in all their towns, from watchtower to fortified city.  2 Kings 17:9

From that day on, half of my servants carried on the work while half of them held the spears, the shields, the bows and the breastplates; and the captains were behind the whole house of Judah. Those who were rebuilding the wall and those who carried burdens took their load with one hand doing the work and the other holding a weapon. As for the builders, each wore his sword girded at his side as he built, while the trumpeter stood near me. Nehemiah 4:16-18

I am not sure I am able to solve the conundrum, ‘Carry Open or Conceal’, using the King James Version.  As usual, there are scholars well beyond my skill that will be necessary to resolve this debate. 

 I encourage them to pipe in now by using the comments below. My suspicion is that the choice may well entail a discussion of which option makes the most sense monetarily for the Gun Lobby. Or, perhaps the answer will be to carry open and conceal in tandem. As they say, 'the Good Lord hates a coward'.

Cheers, nca

Third Time Through

Big McNally With Fries

In 1979 and 1980 my travelling companion and I thumbed across portions of North America seeking adventure and a realization of the American Experience. One of our travel tools was a large Rand McNally Road Map of North America.

Every traveler on our path who offered to give us a lift was asked to sign the road map. 

35 years later we still have that Rand McNally Road Atlas, a keepsake of our travels and documentation of the good intentions of 100's of kind folks willing to stop and ferry us further along our path.

Many of the signatures are barely legible after 35 years of neglect and due to the hurried nature of our need to capture rapid signatures as we were dropped off upon our path. If not for that, I might take upon myself a project to reach out on the Internet and thank those kind strangers who helped us along our way all those years ago.

Which causes me to reflect a bit on all the strangers,friends, and relatives who do stop and help us along our meandering path through life.  How full would my Rand McNally be if I had taken the time to gather the signature of every kind gentle soul who ever took the time to help guide me through the trials and tribulations of my life?

Similarly, how often would I appear in the Road Atlas of strangers that I may have helped reach their destinations?

My son-in-law shared his belief with me recently, telling me that there are angels all around us, both living and beyond the veil that stop and help us on our way.  I can not dispute this, for I have benefited from the kind hand of strangers numerous times. The ledger would be far to the left in the stranger's favor if compared to acts of kindness I may have proffered.

To all those who stopped and lifted me, whether listed on my Rand-Mac or not...I humbly and respectfully thank you. There but for strangers, I may still now be roadside and waiting.

Cheers, nca

My Recipe for Wake Up Hair

Dear Facebook Posters;

RE-Posting other people's recipes, untried/uncooked...is uninteresting to the MAX. Tedious.

It would be like me posting  varying pictures of my wake up hair each  and every day.

'nuff said...


Cheers, nca

Indepublican

I have been a registered 'Independent' in Arizona since the 80's.  I am committed to it, I see no significant voice for me in either the Republican Party or Democratic Party.  I don't find either party representative of me or my values.  At times I wonder if there is any difference between the two parties, or if they may just be a way to disguise the fact that we, as Arizonans, have no choice at all.

The terms liberal and conservative don't appeal to me either. Neither word has real meaning to me. Liberal has the same base word as 'Liberty', but I don't see much liberty in being a Liberal. Conservative has 'Conserve' as it's base word, but I see no effort to conserve in that group of people.  I am a firm believer in the separation of church and state, therefore choosing the Religious Right as my guidepost is not acceptable. Yet, many of these core beliefs of mine are based off my core beliefs which do have a spiritual undertone, so the left is not home to me either.

To sum it up, I think of myself as fiscally conservative and socially liberal. Neither traditional party has a place for me as indicative of my political values.

However, last week I finally (temporarily) got off the fence and joined a traditional American Party....

in small words....I am now (temporarily) a Republican. cough cough. really.

don't hate on me.  it is just temporary.

In this election, at this time, being a Republican allows me to vote against Donald Trump in both the Primary and General elections.  I think  that is an important task for me, allowing my voice to be heard twice.

I feel it is important that I do what I can to prevent a President in office that I view as a  demagogue.  I can't know for sure that he is a racist, that he is against women's equal rights, that he is against free speech, that he is a proponent of torture. However I do know that he chooses to appeal to those people whom do support those stances. I can see for my own eyes that he has made the choice to appeal to those fringe element people that would support those unjust causes. In opposition, my only tool is to vote against him. I do feel that my country is allowed to choose the candidates whom they believe in by democratic process.

My Hypocrisy knows know bounds. And proud of it. Of one thing I am not proud, is that I can't remember a Presidential election yet where my choice at the polls achieved the highest American office. That, my friends, is quite and accomplishment, to successfully navigate the losing candidate all these years.

 There is always next time.

 I love my country, I love my rights as a citizen, and I chose to vote my conscience, right or wrong. Twice if I can get away with it.  :)

Cheers, nca

Tender Of Friends

One personal reflection of mine I can make with no hesitation is that I have not been a careful tender of my friendships. When my Father passed away, as family was going through paperwork and photographs I felt strongly that there was great importance in preserving the family history associated with my Father.  In odd ways, I was somewhat successful at that. Odd in this is that through my efforts, I have come across other family members also willing to put in this effort. There is still quite a bit of work that can be done in that effort. But of my friendships, I have not done enough to preserve them through the years. And unlike my family history, my friendship history is personal and therefore it is singularly up to me to preserve.

It has always been an easy thing for me to 'make' friends through the years.  It was something I never questioned. Though I was awkward with the 'opposite' sex, I was able to accumulate a number of very close friends of both sexes through the years.  I don't believe I ever understood how much of a gift that really is.  As now I look back upon the last 56 years, the process of making friends is a very random 'miracle' that we all take for granted.  The events that conspire to bring two people together is a mixture of being at the right time, right place, and right circumstances....and in the right general mood. There must be circumstances of need, and circumstances of giving of oneself to occur that one can not take for granted.

This 'taking for granted' tendency I well understand. I have neglected my friendships over the years in such a way as to allow them to properly decay.  I am a blatant disrespectful of the word 'friendship'. As examples of this is the fact that through the years I very seldom asked people for phone numbers or addresses.  And it was very rare that I took photographs at all, particularly of friends.  In all cases I relied on personal memory to keep the friendship documented.  I allowed the 'friend' to keep photographic documentation of the friendship.  This was a form of neglect and disrespect I would tag upon the friendship.

I have a best friend that I have from before High School. This means that it is a friendship going back 40 years. This friend knows the circumstances of my growing up, problems with family life, and someone who knows well the awkward years of our youth.  As I look through my photographs I have only one picture of him.  I don't have his phone number at all.  He is not on my 'FACEBOOK', and he does not read this blog.  Once or twice a year I simply show up on his doorstep, and it is like we have never been parted, we engage ourselves in Friendship mode.

The number of dear friends I can not contact because of my neglect is quite large. My best friend in elementary school I can not find, though I have been googling around for some time. My first girl friend, even though we did not end our relationship badly, remains unreachable to this day.  I have several international friends I made over the years that I have no clue how to reach. As I said before, I seldom kept addresses, phone numbers, pictures, or letters.

There has been success in rekindling old friendships. My dear UK friend I found years ago and we have rekindled the friendship. He is in the states today and we have found new adventures to get into. Through his return to the States, other old and dear friends have connected from that era.  As these old friendships warm up I am starting to realize just how important this act of making friends really is.  Our families and genes affect our lives, but it is also those friendships (and enemy-ships) that shape our lives too.

At the age I am in now, I don't feel that I am now only looking back on my life as lived. I still am making new friends and starting new relationships, moving in a forward direction. There are still 'adventures' to be had. I am not anywhere near 'done' yet. But I am starting to take a more serious look at how respectfully I treat those old and new friendships. I am and will always be somewhat of a 'private' person, enjoying quiet times and precious moments with my small little family of which I am a patriarch.  But I see too that I must do a little more work to maintain and preserve my very precious friendships.

Cheers, nca