Friday, July 25, 2014

THE JOLLY ROGER








Jack's 75th birthday was last week.  We were undergraduate fraternity brothers back in the 1950's. Then for nine years in the 1990's, I was minister at his home church.  I had not seen him in several years.  For some unknown reason, he was strongly on my mind that day.  So, following an impulse or an intuition, I drove over to his house to say 'hello'.  There was no one at home when I arrived but as I was writing a 'sorry that I missed you' note, he and his wife drove up.  We visited for a half hour or so and it was then that I learned that was his birthday.   It was good seeing him and  catching up on personal and family matters.  Little of our conversation was around 'the good old days'.


College fraternities receive a lot of 'bad press', much of it deservedly, for transgressions ranging from alcohol abuse to adolescent  'pranks and hijinks'.  A nearby university has frequently been in the news for fraternity members allegedly being implicated in a pledge's death.  Another endemic criticism has been snobbery and exclusive-ism.  Selecting members by the secret ballot method known as 'Blackballing' has inflicted great hurt upon countless youth seeking inclusion.

Periodically, I receive mailings from the national office of my undergrad fraternity.  Usually, I do a  'quick read' for any mention of someone whom I might know.  Otherwise, it finds a  quick home in the recycle bin.  Somehow, stories about current members or how old alums are serving as mentors, etc hold no interest. I once knew a man who in his 60's was "Grand President" of the fraternity of his youth.  His vanity license plate bore the 'password' of that group.   My 'fraternity' were the guys in our local chapter at a specific time and place.  In my personal 'archives', I still have the fraternity pin that I wore then.  I guess the 'skull and crossbones' had (have) some kind of symbolic meaning.  If so, that is long lost in the recesses of my remembering.  An undergraduate acquaintance referred to the pin as a 'Jolly Roger', the symbol on pirates' flags with skull and crossbones.

Ours was a small student body where practically all the residential students knew each other.  While there were six national fraternities and four national sororities with chapters represented, it was not unusual to have close friends among other 'Greek' organizations besides one's own.  We doubtless had our share of the 'silliness' and yet, there were shared times and events that made us glad that we  were  part of something 'larger' than our own self interest.  Toward the end of my Senior year, several guys were seriously injured in an automobile accident while en route back to campus.  Four of the Sig Eps were unable to return to classes that semester. I was deeply moved by what had happened and am forever grateful to my 'brother' Charlie (as he was then known) who held me while I sobbed.  Fred recently died 50 + years later, supposedly from complications from that ill-fated afternoon. 

'Naming Names' can be risky, especially when I rely upon my 76 year old 'remember-er'.  But immediately there come to mind:
Reid ('Sunshine'), John, Charlie, Bill, Nesbitt, Fred, Bobby, Ken, Danny, Mickey, Vance, Chetchie ('Big' and 'Little' . . . biological brothers), Jack, Bill Tyson, Shepherd,  'Sweat', Pete, Benny, . . . (No slight intended for omissions.)  Three of them are deceased.  Of the others, we see each other rarely, if ever, and communicate by email, occasional telephone call, or text.  There is a respect and appreciation for our shared past but more importantly, I believe, is the ability to 'meet' in the 'right now'.  There have been mumblings about a get-together, or as Ken wrote me last week: "We ought to try and gather for a shindig one of these days before it's too late.  You do know what I mean."




Yeah, Sully, I think I do know what you mean.

     Satchel

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Tom(my) saw yer fence . . .

. . .and painted it.   OK; it's a weak pun, at best.  If the allusion does not resonate, check Mark Twain's narrative about Tom Sawyer and whitewashing the fence.

     A few weeks ago, we attended a lawn and  garden tour and saw a small tool shed that had a mural painted on the side. Thus was born the idea of adding a mural onto our privacy fence.  Our son, Tommy, (my wife's biological; my relational) who lives in Los Angeles is a talented artist with an MFA.  While here last week, he painted a mural on a  section of the fence . . . with the possibility of adding "touch-up's" and more panels on future visits.

    Watching the progression of steps involved was something of an education.  His work reflects vivid colors and shapes (see his website, www.tommybeane.com, and the various tabs thereon).  After the initial whitening and the addition of the first colors, as a 'non-artist' , I had difficulty envisioning 'where this might be going.'  Fortunately, he did not.

   Over the years, my wife and our friend, Jim, who is a professional landscaper have created a beautiful backyard for us.  Now, with the mural. . . well, as they say, 'a picture is worth a thousand words'. We think that it is 'the perfect addition.'

First, the primer



Q, our Shitzu, 'stands guard'



For perspective, this is from about 40 yards away

  

I had thought it basically completed with an ice field in the foreground.
Little did I know . . .


Tom Sawyer's fence never looked so good !






Satchel